


Lonely Souls

by VoceAmoris



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, M/M, Multi, first time writing for les mis, you have to forgive me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:52:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoceAmoris/pseuds/VoceAmoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is the OCD, work-obsessed geek who never had a problem being on the outside. Eponine thinks he needs to get out more and break out of his shell, and Grantaire is just the guy for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enjolras Hates Grantaire and Grantaire Could Care Less

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything for Ao3 and Les Miserables, so if things are out-of-character or are just plain awful, you'll have to forgive me.  
> At least I'm trying, right? There's a lack of Enjolras/Grantaire fanfiction out there. I had to do something!

** Chapter One **

_~Enjolras~_

Enjolras was tired. More than that, he was as exhausted as could be and it wasn’t fair that he had class at nine in the morning. It was too early, the sun was too goddamn bright, and Marius had probably used all of the hot water _again_. Today was going to be a bad day; he could just feel it.

It was Thursday morning and the apartment that Enjolras shared with Marius and Eponine, his two best friends, was filled with the tantalizing smell of breakfast. No doubt ‘Ponine was exercising her brilliant culinary talents in order to prepare the rest of them for the day. Enjolras dragged himself out of bed and shuffled out his bedroom door and down the hall towards the kitchen, accidentally knocking down a framed picture of Eponine and her friend, Grantaire, that was hanging on the wall. Enjolras didn’t pick it up; he hated Grantaire. The guy was a drunkard and an asshole and was always at the house eating all of their food without even asking. It was ridiculous. If Enjolras had his way—and he never did—Grantaire would be shipped off to Timbuktu.

“Enras!” Eponine beamed at him, using his nickname, as he stepped into the kitchen, his arms stretched over his head as he yawned. “It’s about time you woke up. I made you breakfast; it’s on the table.” She waved the spatula she was holding in the direction of the dining room before turning back to the stove. “Oh, and Grant’s here. So be nice.” Enjolras groaned and ran his hands through his wavy blond hair before stomping off back down the hall.

“Tell me when he’s gone,” he grumbled.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Eponine followed him, her bare feet padding along the carpet as she trailed him. “Grant’s a great guy; you just haven’t given him a chance! Besides, you know that I went all the way to that stupid organic market you insist on buying from to get vegan ingredients for you. Go back in there and appreciate my hard work.” Eponine crossed her arms and stared Enjolras down, a single dark eyebrow raised. After a few moments’ hesitation (and a painful stomp on his foot), Enjolras submitted to her tyranny and went back towards the table.

Sure enough, Grantaire was sitting there.

In Enjolras’ seat.

“Enras!” Marius grinned, looking chipper as ever and already dressed for the day. If he wasn’t his best friend (and the guy who paid for most of their luxury apartment), Enjolras would hate him as much as he hated Grant. But alas, Marius _was_ his best friend and he was filthy rich. Hating him was out of the question.

“Hey.” Enjolras sat down across the table from Grant, where a plate piled with organic soy pancakes was waiting for him. Eponine really was sweet to cater to his picky, vegan appetite. He’d have to thank her for it later.

“You know you have class in an hour,” Marius pointed out, giving Enjolras’ pajama-clad figure a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Enjolras was trying as hard as possible not to make eye-contact with Grantaire, who was reading the newspaper. What a tool.

“You know the college has a dress code,” Marius tried again.

“Yeah.”

“You can take your breakfast with you if you want to shower _and_ get ready _and_ make it to class on time.”

“…yeah.” Enjolras started cutting his pancakes up carefully, his OCD compelling him to make each bite the same shape and size as the one before it. Eponine had thought of this too and had shaped his breakfast into squares; you can’t cut even shapes out of circles. She really was the best.

“Dude, that means you have to hurry the hell up,” Grant interjected, not even looking up from the paper. Enjolras finally glanced up, glaring at the top of Grant’s stupid head, which was all he could see from where he was sitting. Even Grant’s dark, curly hair was annoying; it sprung up and went everywhere and he didn’t even _try_ to comb it down or anything. How could he live with himself?

“I know what he meant,” he growled. “I don’t need you to translate for me.”

“Never would’ve guessed,” Grant replied, still not putting down the paper. Instead, he reached for a glass of water that was in front of him and took a sip. When he placed it back down, the shivering liquid stirred up a smell that floated across the table. Enjolras wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Are you drinking _vodka_?” he asked, his voice plain with disbelief. “It’s not even ten o’clock!”

“Not all of us are lightweights,” Grantaire replied, turning the page of the paper. Enjolras scoffed at this and folded his arms.

“Being a lightweight has nothing to do with what hours are appropriate for drinking,” he sniffed. “If you’ll excuse me.” He stood, leaving his unfinished breakfast behind and stomping back through the kitchen to go to his room. He had only just woken up and already his day had been utterly ruined. Sure, he had realized that it was going to be a bad day when he had woken up, but this was just the icing on the cake. A disgusting, egg-filled, milk-using, bacon-bit sprinkled cake.

“Enras?” He heard Marius calling after him. “Are you alright? Want me to have Eponine save your breakfast for you?”

“ _No!_ ” Enjolras yelled back, going back into his room and slamming the door. Marius instantly started knocking incessantly, asking to come in, wanting to know if he was really alright. “Go away. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to call-in sick to class.” He flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. He wasn’t getting up until all the tiredness had left his body.

Or until Grantaire left the house.

 

_~Grantaire~_

 

“You really upset him,” Marius said, walking back into the dining room, straightening his purple tie. “You should stop doing that. You know he’s as finicky as a cat.”

“He sets himself up for it, not to mention he lets himself get pushed around like no one’s business.” Grant took another slug of vodka and folded the paper up, laying it down on the table. “I like Enjolras just fine; he’s the one who decided he didn’t like me first. I honestly have no idea why he hates me.”

“Enjolras is sensitive,” Marius replied, leaning against the doorframe and staring Grant down with an intense gaze. “He thinks that you’re an arrogant prick—which is true—and that you have no control, which, if you’ll excuse me, is also extremely true.”

“I have plenty of control!” Grant replied, putting on a wounded tone of voice and furrowing his brows at Marius. Marius just raised his eyebrows before offering an example of Grant’s lack of control:

“Remember Cosette’s party last weekend?” At this reminder, Grantaire broke into a smile that lit up the entire room.

“That, my friend, was a night to remember. She gets some quality stuff into her house, and the girls she knows? Smokin’.” Grant sighed at the happy memories. The amount of grinding and carnal, pre-marital acts that had occurred were more than enough to supply him with glorious dreams for weeks to come. He heard Marius sighing heavily from somewhere off in the distance, but he was still trapped in the world of sex, girls in neon bikinis, and expensive alcohol.

“I’m going to class. You should probably leave before Enjolras gets back up, or he’s going to be furious.” Marius went into the kitchen, and Grantaire heard him say good-bye to Eponine before heading out the front door. Grantaire stayed for a while longer at the dining table, eventually reaching over and dragging Enjolras’ plate towards himself to finish off the pancakes. They were disgusting (he would never understand the vegan shit that guy ate) but what could he say? He was hungry.

“Hey, Grant?” Eponine walked into the dining room, untying the strings of her apron and pulling it over her head before draping it over the back of one of the chairs. “Did you do something to upset Enras?”

“Nothing he wasn’t asking for,” Grant shrugged. “He was being bitchy before I even said anything to him.”

“Grant…” Eponine sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. “It’s been what, a year? A year and a half? You guys need to stop this petty arguing. There’s absolutely no reason you guys shouldn’t get along.”

“Besides the obvious, you mean,” Grant snorted, rocking his chair back on its legs. “For one, he’s a vegan. I eat steak and manly things as often as I can get my hands on it. He’s an obsessive compulsive, essay-writing geek and I’m messy and like to paint. He’s controlled and uptight; I’m impulsive and like to go with the flow. We’re polar opposites.”

“Opposites attract,” Eponine replied, firmly. “There’s a party this weekend, right?”

“Yes…” Grantaire didn’t have any idea where she was going with this, but he had a strong feeling he wasn’t going to like it.

“I want you to take Enjolras with you.”

The silence that followed this statement was enough to make her continue on in a rush, her words sliding together and making Grantaire wonder if she had drank too much coffee that morning.

“Seriously, Grant. The guy has absolutely no friends besides Marius and I. Sometimes he has those study-group things with Courfeyrac from his Advanced Writing course, but that doesn’t count. He needs to get out, to mingle. You are the best choice for this kind of stuff, and it’ll give you two the chance to get to know one another on a one-on-one scale.” Her olive green eyes were desperate, and Grant had never been able to say no to a pretty lady…but this was definitely pushing it. Enjolras _hated_ him, like, legitimately loathed every bone in his body. Why would he want to go to a party with him, even if he did ask?

He expressed this to Eponine, and she just smiled with relief and tucked a piece of dark hair behind her ear. “I’ll talk to him about it. Does that mean you’ll ask him to go with you? Maybe Marius can go as well, just…separately. You may need a buffer.” She bit her lip, her eyes looking over his shoulder as she thought. No doubt picturing all the terrible situations that might arise if Marius wasn’t there to keep Enjolras from snapping.

“Fine, I’ll ask him. I just can’t guarantee you he’ll have a good time,” Grant warned, standing up from the table. Eponine followed suit, smiling eagerly up at him. “Tell me when you’ve talked to him and I’ll text him an invitation.”

“You have his number?” she frowned, confused. “No one has his number. No one but Marius and I, anyway. And his mother, but she doesn’t really count.”

“I have everyone’s number,” Grant rolled his eyes, pulling his phone out of his pocket to wave in her face. “Even the Stooge’s. See you later, ‘Ponine.”

He hoped to God this wouldn’t go completely overboard.


	2. Enjolras Is Surprised and Grantaire Wants Him Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras gets subliminal suggestions from Eponine, Grantaire plans to get his new friend drunk, and we discover that everything isn't all it's cracked up to be.

** Chapter Two **

****

_~Enjolras~_

Sure enough, Marius had used all of the hot water. It wasn’t exactly a surprise since he did it _every single morning_ , but Enjolras was upset about it all the same. He slumped back onto his bed, dropping his phone onto the floor after finishing the call to the Dean of Students, saying he wasn’t going to class because of “health issues.” It would take at least another hour for the water heater to heat up more warm water for him to take a decent shower, and he was already awake enough that he couldn’t go back to sleep. Everything sucked.

“Enjolras?” Eponine tapped gently on his door before opening it, not bothering to wait for a response. Enjolras grunted into his pillow as a response, unwilling to give her the courtesy of actual words; she had invited Grantaire over and ruined his entire morning. “Are you okay? Marius told me you weren’t feeling well.” Damn Marius being helpful and telling Eponine. True, she would’ve noticed that he wasn’t in class, but then he could have lied and said it was cancelled. Now, Eponine was going to coo over him and insist he eat nasty things like yams and okra. She always made him eat nasty things when he was sick. Always.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, his face still shoved into his pillow. “Go away.”

“You aren’t letting Grantaire beat you in less than ten minutes, are you?”

Damn women and their appeals to manly, competitive spirits.

“He didn’t beat me,” Enjolras rolled over and sat up, glaring at Eponine. He knew his hair was sticking out every which way, but he hadn’t been able to shower because stupid Marius had been selfish and ruined it for everyone.

“You’re thinking mean, bratty things again, aren’t you?” the dark-haired girl rolled her eyes and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “I can tell just by looking at your face. What’s it this time?”

“Marius used all the hot water. I don’t like Grantaire, yet he was here this morning and ruined my breakfast. I’m tired. I have a test tomorrow that I completely forgot about and need to study for right away. Courfeyrac wants to meet for a study session this afternoon, but I promised Marius I’d play tennis with him. Everything is stressing me out.” Enjolras paused, his expression thoughtful as if he were checking to see if he had forgotten anything. “Oh, and I have a headache.”

Eponine let out a tolerant sigh and reached out to brush his hair off his forehead before pressing her cool fingers to his cheeks. “You do feel like you have a bit of a temperature…it may just be the stress that’s making you run high.” She frowned, getting to her feet. “Wait here and I’ll fetch the thermometer.” She disappeared, and Enjolras could hear her opening and shutting drawers in the kitchen as she looked for the thermometer. He flopped back onto his mattress, yawning once more, blinking his eyes slowly as he stared up at the ceiling. He knew he complained about everything and that he was overwhelmingly serious. He knew that he almost never had a good word to say about anyone and that his negativity often annoyed the upbeat, sunshiny Marius. Whenever he was in a pissy mood like he was today, Eponine was always the one who sat next to him and made him spit out everything that was wrong, even the small, inconsequential things, and then she made him sort them out and decide how best to solve each problem. It usually helped.

But he always had so many little problems. Problems that weren’t even in the least bit important. He was what Grant would call a Debbie Downer; in fact, he was pretty sure Grant had called him that before. It was depressing to know that he was right.

Eponine came back in, the white and blue thermometer in her hand. “Open up!” she pushed the silver end of the thermometer towards his mouth, and slid it under his tongue, waiting for it to beep. As she waited, she continued talking from where she had left off.

“The thing with you, Enjolras, is that you’re too closed-off. You expect everyone to be on par with everything just like you are, and when they aren’t, it makes you upset. I know you don’t deal with things being disorderly very well, but that’s something you need to work on, otherwise you’re never going to really _live_!” At this last exclamation, she threw her arms wide, as if to express how big and grand the world was and how much Enjolras was missing out on all of it. The thermometer beeped and she dropped her dramatic pose to pull it out of his mouth and check the digital display. “One oh one point nine.” She frowned and then gave Enjolras a gentle shove so that he fell back onto the bed. “You stay here and rest and I’ll go down to the store and get you some Tums.” She stood, brushing back her hair and tugging on the hem of her petal pink shirt. “You don’t get up, rustling around will only make it worse.” With that, she disappeared.

“I want to shower,” Enjolras mumbled to himself, rolling over in the bed, unable to stop himself from pouting. Now that he knew he was sick, he felt he had a legitimate reason to be upset about any, and every, thing. It was like when women claimed that it was their time of month and could act any way they pleased without any repercussions. As he lay there, wondering just how much longer it was going to take for the heater to warm up more water, he heard his phone buzz. Groaning, he pulled himself over to the edge of his mattress and leaned over the side, picking his phone off the floor.

It was a number he didn’t know, and he frowned as he opened the text message.

 **1(870)555-0978:** Enras, hey, it’s Grantaire. ‘Ponine said something about you needing to get out, so I’m taking you to my friend Jehan’s party tomorrow night.

Enjolras snapped his head up and glared at the door that Eponine had disappeared through only moments before. Of course all of that digging around, planting the idea that he needed to get out more, and making him feel bad about himself was for some higher purpose. She wanted him to get along with Grant, as if that were ever going to happen. The guy was an idiot, had no responsibility, and drank _way_ too much (that was a point of extreme distress for Enjolras, for personal reasons). But…Eponine was right. He found himself at home alone more often than not while Marius was out with his rich prep-school friends and Eponine was hanging out with Cosette, and it had never really bothered him before, but…it was starting to now.

Reluctantly, Enjolras typed a response:

 **Enjolras:** Sounds good. What time?

The response was almost immediate.

 **Grantaire:** Eight. Glad you’re coming, man.

 **Enjolras:** Right.

Enjolras gave a heavy sigh and dropped his phone on his nightstand and prayed to God that he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.

 

_~Grantaire~_

“He actually accepted the invitation. No whining or complaining or cursing.” Grant was on the phone with Eponine, who was out at the store buying gross, healthy food for Enjolras. Grant himself was sitting in his frat house, skipping class, as usual. “What on Earth did you say to the guy?”

“Nothing really,” was Eponine’s reply. “I just told him I thought he needed to go out more, just, not in so many words. It’s called planting a message in his subconscious.” Grant heard her thanking the cashier and stepping outside, wheeling a very noisy cart that had to have a squeaky wheel or something. Grant looked around the sitting room, his gaze settling on his bare feet which were propped up on a camel coloured, leather ottoman. Omega Phi Epsilon was the most prestigious fraternity on campus, and it had been no small feat getting in. Marius had constantly jabbed at Grant for even being a frat boy in the first place, but Grant wore the sweatshirts with pride and even had a bumper sticker for his Mini Cooper.

“Either way, you worked miracles. I haven’t had that big of a surprise since I was in grade school and my dad dropped me in the swimming pool while I was sleeping.” Grant shivered at the memory of the icy water enveloping his entire body, startling him awake so badly that he had been jumpy for weeks.

“You have to promise to be nice to him and make sure he has a good time, otherwise he’ll be scarred for life and refuse to go out ever again.”

“I can’t promise to ensure a good time, but I will watch out for the guy.” Grant promised, staring at the black screen of the enormous flat-screen TV across the room from him. “Now don’t talk on the phone while you’re driving. I’ll be at your place tomorrow to get Enjolras. Make sure he’s ready and wearing something…appropriate. None of that suit and tie shit that he and Marius are always toting around.”

“I don’t think he owns anything that _isn’t_ a suit and tie,” Eponine giggled. “But I’ll see what I can do. Thanks again, Grantaire. I’ll owe you one.”

“You always owe me one, sweetheart,” Grant replied with a grin before hanging up the phone. The grin fell as soon as he placed the phone down in his lap, fiddling with it absent-mindedly as he thought over his game plan. Enjolras was definitely going to make sure that whatever happened wasn’t any fun at all, so Grant was going to have to really push the guy out of his shell.

But that wasn’t going to be easy. Enjolras still hated him, and even if he agreed to go to a party with him, it didn’t exactly mean that everything (whatever it was) was forgiven.

Grant froze. Maybe, just maybe, if he could get Enjolras drunk enough, he could figure out what the big deal was. All it would take was a couple of Long Island Iced Teas and the guy would be totally smashed; no one could resist the fruity drink, and the alcohol content was ridiculously high. Enjolras wouldn’t know what hit him. A smile crept across Grant’s pink lips, the idea growing in his mind. It would be like hypnosis: he’d pull the bad things out of him, and then, in his weakened emotional and mental state, he’d plant the idea that everything was okay between the two of them. Normally this kind of thing wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but Grant considered himself a social butterfly, and when someone didn’t like him, he took it personally and made it his mission to gain their favour. Useless, exhausting, and often ending badly, it was a horrible problem to have, but Grant could never get rid of the need for people to like him. It made up for everything that had happened in the past.

A shadow flitted across Grant’s sky blue eyes, but disappeared as quickly as it came. Grant didn’t dwell on things of the past or negativity in general. It just wasn’t worth it. Grabbing his phone, he dialed Jehan’s number, wanting to double-check that he had what was required to make a full house of Long Island Iced Teas.


	3. Enjolras Goes Shopping and Grantaire Takes Him To A Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is pulled on a shopping spree with Eponine. Grantaire shows up later to pick up Enjolras and Marius for the party, but the look on Enjolras' face isn't easily forgotten.

** Chapter Three **

****

_~Enjolras~_

“I don’t want to shop.” Enjolras insisted, leaning against the counter the next morning. “Why can’t I wear something I already have? Or borrow something of Marius’?”

“You can’t fit my clothes; we’re completely different builds,” was Marius’ monotonous reply. Enjolras threw him a snarky, desperation-tinged look. Best friend, his ass. Marius was supposed to leap to his defense and save him from Eponine’s insatiable desire to clothe him like an old-school frat boy.

“’Ponine, seriously. I can just wear what I usually wear.” Enjolras gestured to his khaki shorts and long-sleeved, green-striped rugby shirt. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You’ll get made fun of for wearing shorts, for one,” Eponine pointed out, reaching out to tug on his dark brown, Banana Republic belt. “The fact that you’re wearing a belt at all is distressing.”

Enjolras grabbed the belt and held on to it desperately. “I am _not_ releasing the belt. It’s not going _anywhere_. I refuse to sag and become one of those people.”

“Those people are the people you’re going to a party with,” Marius pitched in. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“I’m still not even sure of why I accepted that invitation in the first place. This is ridiculous. Grant and Eponine took advantage of my unhealthy, weakened state and forced me into accepting an invite to a party that I would never attend under normal circumstances.”

“This party is going to be your saving grace,” Eponine said, reaching out to grab her coral purse and pull out her car keys. “Now come on. I’m taking you to the mall and we’re getting you a decent pair of jeans.”

“I didn’t work as many hours last week,” Enjolras tried as a last ditch attempt. “I have to buy a new text book for my Ancient Roman Literature class and that’s going to suck up all the money I have. I can’t afford new clothes right now.”

And then, in a moment of intense betrayal that Enjolras would remember forever, Marius reached into his back-pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Take my card; it’s on me.”

“I hate you.”

 

~~~~~

“Look how great that looks,” Eponine cooed, wrapping her arms around Enjolras’ waist and nuzzling his neck in an affectionate gesture. “You’re going to find a pretty girl at this party and she’s going to just _love_ you.”

Enjolras had to admit that the outfit did look good. He wasn’t one for wearing jeans and t-shirts—that was Grantaire’s job—but this was extremely flattering, though most of that probably stemmed from Eponine’s constant praise. He had on a pair of dark wash jeans, rolled-up slightly at the cuffs, an emerald green, kitten-soft shirt with a blurry grey and white logo on it that he had yet to decipher, and a pair of tan boating shoes. The shoes alone cost a good two hundred bucks, but Eponine had insisted, and since Marius had so kindly offered to pay, Enjolras felt absolutely no obligation to hold himself back from blowing his friend’s entire bank account. Not that a measly two hundred dollars would set Marius back anything at all; the guy was loaded to the teeth.

“I’m not sure about this shirt,” Enjolras pulled at the soft, cottony material. As soon as he let go, it went right back into position, clinging to him in all the right places…and making him feel more than a little uncomfortable.

“It shows off your body!” Eponine insisted, patting him on both of his shoulders. “What’s not to like? You’re almost always hidden underneath your ridiculous suit jackets…”

“Those ‘ridiculous suit jackets’ are tailor-altered and fit me perfectly,” Enjolras huffed. “This is just…obscene. Look how it’s sticking to me!”

“When it becomes too much, you can just take it off.” She winked and shoved him back into the dressing room. “Now get changed and let’s take this up to the counter so we can go home. Or maybe we could grab lunch first, you know, since we have Marius’ card.” Enjolras could hear the smirk in her voice, and he had to admit: he liked the way she thought.

 

 

_~Grantaire~_

“Eponine!” Grant didn’t knock, instead opting to just fling open the front door to the apartment and bellow the name of his friend. “I have arrived!”

“Grant, don’t scare Enjolras away before he’s even come out of his room yet,” Marius said, running his hands through his auburn hair, glancing anxiously down the hall. Grant laughed and gave Marius a pat on the back.

“You’re acting like a mother whose child is going to his first birthday party,” he ruffled Marius’ hair. “Ease up. Enjolras is a grown-up, and he can handle whatever this party has to throw at him. Which won’t be much, since I told Jehan he needed to tone the whole thing down. And I found out that Jehan invited Courfeyrac, who I believe is a friend of Enjolras’?”

“Hardly,” Marius replied, shrugging out of Grant’s reach. “Courfeyrac is just a study-buddy of Enras’, and he’s going to be mortified when he finds out that he parties just like every other college student.”

“And now Enjolras is going to become one of those ‘other college students!’ It’s too bad you won’t let me haze him; the amount of pranks I could have planned would’ve been beyond your puny imagination.”

“That’s exactly why I would never let that happen,” Marius muttered under his breath, heading towards the hallway so he could see what was taking Enjolras so long. “Enjolras! Hurry up! It’s time to go!”

Grant just laughed to himself and leaned against the wall, watching Marius’ retreating back. Despite the constant warnings and bits of advice that had been thrown his way by both Marius and Eponine on how to handle Enjolras, Grant was looking forward to this party. There was a part of him that strongly believed that Enjolras was a party-animal at heart, and it would only take a few drinks to unleash that animal and let it rampage across the dance floor.

“I will be the one to unlock that vault,” Grant said to himself, tucking his hands into his front pants pockets, a half-smile burned across his mouth. “Tonight is going to be a night to remember.”

Eponine came out of the hallway, peering around to corner to furrow her brows at Grant. “Has Enjolras not come out, yet?” Grant shook his head and smiled. She frowned a little more and turned around, yelling Marius’ name as she left.

“I changed my mind!” Enjolras’ voice floated down the hall, getting steadily closer as he continued to say how he had homework to do, essays to write, people to call. He needed to check the stock market; he needed to make sure that he finished his extra credit assignments. Courfeyrac was expecting him tonight!

“I know that’s a lie, since Grantaire told me that Courfeyrac will be at this party,” Marius dragged Enjolras out, gripping his arm tightly as he led him into the foyer. “Now come on. You know it’ll be fun, and Grantaire has sworn up and down that he’s going to take care of you.”

“I don’t need him to take care of me,” Enjolras sniffed. “I know how to…mingle.”

“Now you’re just being stuffy.” Eponine appeared behind him, peeking over his shoulder. “You guys have fun; I’m having Cosette over and we’re going to watch Disney Princess movies. Don’t drive drunk; call a cab. Promise?”

“Absolutely,” Marius leaned forward and kissed Eponine on the cheek, and she beamed happily. “Love you, ‘Ponine. We’ll be back soon, with Enjolras intact and pleased.”

“Sounds good. Bye!” Eponine all but shoved them out the door, and then locked it behind them for good measure.

“She really wanted us to leave,” Grant joked. “I wonder what she and Cosette are _really_ going to do.”

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, asshole,” Marius gave Grant a friendly punch on the shoulder, and Grant looked over his shoulder to see Enjolras trailing behind them, looking more nervous than miserable.

“Cosette has always been a little risqué, Mar,” Grant pointed out, slowing his pace so that Enjolras could catch up without realizing that they were waiting for him. “As your girlfriend, she has to find some way to amuse herself.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying that you aren’t exactly the most exciting boyfriend in the world,” Grant shrugged. Marius frowned, not offended, but genuinely curious as to what he was doing wrong, and he asked Grant just that. “Girls want to be swept off their feet, dragged through drama and fights and violent make-up sex. They don’t want to be romanced and treated like flowers and carried around daintily. Every woman wants adventure.” Grant wiggled his eyebrows and then called to Enjolras over his shoulder: “Right, Enras?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Enjolras replied, not bitterly. “Girls aren’t exactly my area of expertise. There are more important things to do…”

“Like write essays? And organize the next campus strike to make the cafeteria stop serving bacon at breakfast?” Enjolras had finally caught up to them as they walked towards Grant’s car, and Grant gave the study-freak a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Come on, Enras. Live a little.” Only after he said it did he realize that Enjolras would probably take offense to that, and he quickly removed his hand. But when he looked over, Enjolras only had a strange look on his face and didn’t reply. Grant frowned slightly before turning back to Marius. “Anyway, tonight’s going to be a blast. You’ll get to meet Jehan, finally.”

“Your frat friend?” Marius rolled his eyes.

“The very one!” Grant beamed in response, but his mind was still stuck on the look that Enjolras had been wearing when he had patted him on the shoulder.


	4. Enjolras Is Confused and Grantaire Doesn't Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras lets his drunken state get the better of him, Grantaire gets the brunt of his newfound confidence, and Marius is caught in the cross-fire.

** Chapter Four **

****

_~Enjolras~_

Enjolras had absolutely no idea what was going on.

They had arrived at the party, and Marius had instantly vanished into the crowd, claiming that he saw someone he knew from his old prep school. Grantaire had declared that he was going to fetch them both drinks and that Enjolras should just go around and talk to people, get to know the crowd. This option was extremely unappealing, so Enjolras sat down at a table in the corner of the room and tried to make himself invisible.

He was crowd –watching, and sure enough, he would’ve looked extremely out-of-place if he had worn what he usually wore when he left the apartment. Everyone was dressed in jeans and t-shirts, the girls were wearing mini-dresses with ridiculous heels, their hair piled to alarming heights on their heads. _How could anyone like this kind of girl?_ Enjolras wondered.

“Enjolras!” he looked up, and there was Grantaire, holding a glass of what looked like peach tea with a blue umbrella in it in one hand, and three green Jell-O shots in the other. “Why are you sitting down?”

“I’m not comfortable here,” Enjolras said, being blatantly honest and hoping that it would push Grantaire into letting him go home. How anyone could think this was fun was beyond him.

“That’s why Eponine thought you should come with me; you need _out_ of your comfort zone, and this is where you need to be. You aren’t even _trying_ to have fun.”

“Why are you being like this?” Enjolras narrowed his light brown eyes, staring into Grantaire’s crystal blue ones. “You were being a total tool yesterday, and suddenly you’re treating me as if we’re the best of friends. What’s going on.” The last part was placed as a statement, and Grant cracked a small smile, pulling out the chair across from Enjolras and sitting down, sliding the tea-ish drink towards him.

“Drink this. It’s Long Island Iced Tea. It’s alcoholic, but it’s good.” He threw back one of his own shots and then leaned forward, and Enjolras gave his drink a blank stare. Grantaire didn’t actually expect him to drink that, did he? “Now. To answer your question: firstly, it’s a favour to Eponine. She’s my girl, and I would do anything for a pretty lady,” Grantaire smirked at this before continuing on. “Secondly, I have absolutely nothing against you. I fight back when you pick at me, but further than that, I am indifferent. I’ve never had anything against you, and I never knew what you had against me. It’s like a petty middle-school argument that neither of us remembers how it began.”

Enjolras wrinkled his nose as he listened, mostly bothered by the fact that the Long Island Iced Tea was extremely potent, and the smell was making his eyes water. But the more the smell crept up his nose, the more he was suddenly possessed with the need to make Grantaire realize that he wasn’t a prissy, work-obsessed freak. He reached out and grabbed his glass, chugging the whole thing in one go.

When he put the glass down, Grantaire was looking at him over the rim of one of his shot glasses, a single eyebrow raised.

“Slow down, there. You’ll probably blow chunks if you take it in that quickly.”

“I’m fine,” Enjolras snapped, already feeling the alcohol working on him. It shouldn’t be moving in so quickly. “Did you put an energy drink in this?” Grantaire shrugged.

“It takes the booze to your system more quickly; I want you to hurry up and start having fun.”

“Whatever,” Enjolras pushed the glass aside, letting the warmth seep all over him. “I do think you’re an asshole, that much is true. I haven’t liked you from the beginning for a number of reasons, but I will agree that they are petty and not worth disclosing. But..there is _one_ thing…” Enjolras shook his head. He was not going to tell Grantaire about that. It was the one thing that he would never discuss with anyone, especially with someone like Grantaire. Especially not Grantaire.

“What thing is that?” Grantaire actually looked like he was interested, and the thought that this guy, whom he had treated like shit for what seemed like forever, was actually caring about what he had to say, made Enjolras feel a strange buzzing in his head. A pleasant buzzing. He seemed to be able to tell that Enjolras wasn’t going to say anything and got to his feet. “I’ll get you another drink.”

Enjolras just nodded, watching Grantaire as he walked away. The guy really wasn’t that bad when he wasn’t antagonizing him. Though it was true that Enjolras was usually the one who started any fights that arose between them, and now that he was acknowledging that, he kind of felt like crap.

Grantaire was back in a jiffy with more shots for himself and another iced tea for Enjolras. He drank it just as quickly, and soon he and Grant were talking like they really had been friends forever. Enjolras was starting to see what Eponine liked about him.

“…I never saw her again after that!” Grant was giggling like a schoolgirl as he finished his story, and Enjolras was right there with him, leaning forward and slapping his hand on the table and laughing harder than he had in years. He was pretty sure this was his fifth (or was it sixth?) drink, but he didn’t seem to care. Everything was a blur of colour and lights, and Enjolras didn’t want to ever leave. Grantaire made amazing company, and he was wondering why he’d ever had a problem with him in the first place when Grantaire pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “We should head home,” he slurred, pulling himself, sloppily, to his feet.

“No,” Enjolras reached out a shaky hand to stop him. “Not a good idea.”

“Eponine will be worried,” Grantaire protested, taking a stumbling step towards the door. He fell to the side, and Enjolras jumped to his feet and caught him before he hit the ground, wrapping his arms around his waist to support him. The feeling of Grantaire’s body pressed against his sent shockwaves through Enjolras’ body, and he almost dropped his new friend. What the hell was _that_? “Don’t drop me!” Grantaire grumbled, shrugging away from Enjolras’ grasp, turning around clumsily to face him. “You were about to drop me, Enjie.”

“Enjie?” Enjolras frowned, crossing his arms. “That’s…”

“It’s _adoraaaaaable_ ,” Grantaire cooed, reaching out to pinch Enjolras’ cheek, and as his fingers brushed the side of his face, Enjolras felt another shiver run down his spine. What was happening?

A curly lock of black hair had fallen forwards and bounced around the middle of Grantaire’s forehead, and Enjolras found himself clenching his hands into fists to resist the urge to reach up and push it back. The more he thought about it, the tighter his fists became until he was shoving his hands into his back pockets to restrain himself. Grantaire kept repeating ‘Enje Enjie Enjie’ and was smiling at him like a complete idiot, but Enjolras found himself only noticing the exotic blue of his eyes, the way his hair curled just-so over his ears, how his lips curled into a perfect bow of a smile.

Enjolras leaned forward, placed his hands on Grantaire’s shoulders, and kissed him.

The first thing he tasted was lime, the result of the plethora of Jell-O shots Grantaire had taken earlier. The next thing he tasted was cinnamon. And mint. _Cinnamint_ , Enjolras thought to himself, his fingers creeping further around Grantaire’s neck and tangling themselves in the soft curls at the base of his neck. He felt Grantaire’s arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer; they were melting into each other…

“Okay. Time to go home.” A voice declared, pulling him away from Grantaire with such force that he stumbled back and fell onto the ground. “Get up, Enjolras. You need to go home and go to sleep. Right now.” It was Marius, at least, it sounded like Marius. Enjolras couldn’t exactly see straight, so technically, it could’ve been anyone. Grantaire was blinking, a stunned expression on his face, and Enjolras thought how lovely he looked, standing there with absolutely no idea what had just hit him. Enjolras liked that surprised look; it made him want to kiss him again, just to keep that face there.

He started getting to his feet, ready to do just that, but the Possible-Marius wrapped a hand around his forearm and pulled him away, saying something to an unidentifiable guy about making sure Grantaire didn’t drive himself home.

Then everything went black.

 

_~Grantaire~_

“Grant, your phone has been ringing for the past two hours. Wake up already and answer the damn thing, or just put it on silent.” Grant blinked his eyes open, his vision still bleary with sleep. His head hurt like shit, and all he wanted was to close his eyes and go back to sleep. When he finally came to, he saw Marius sitting at the end of his bed, holding a tray with a mug of orange juice and a plate of dry toast on it. “Seriously. You can’t sleep a hangover away, you have to get up and face it like a man.”

“Igh dogh wannaugh…” Grantaire groaned, even himself unsure of what he was trying to say. Marius seemed to understand though, and rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. You’re lucky I even came over here to take care of you at all instead of Eponine. If she was here, she’d be tearing into you with absolutely no sympathy whatsoever.”

“What? Why?” Grantaire’s voice became clearer to his own ears, and he managed to pull himself to a sitting position. How had he gotten into his pajamas? Oh well. Who knew? Stranger things had happened than his friends dressing him while he slept. “I haven’t done anything to upset her, yet.”

Marius remained silent, instead opting to hand him the tray. There were two teal Advil tablets sitting next to the toast, and Grantaire swallowed them gratefully. Advil, the magic cure to any disease. He took a bite of toast, wrinkling his nose at its dryness, before looking back up at his friend. “Seriously, Mar. Why is Eponine upset with me? I have to make whatever it is right straight away or she’ll never forgive me.”

“Do you not remember what happened last night?” Marius asked slowly, folding his arms and giving Grantaire the stare-down. “Do you remember anything at all?”

“Uh, we went to a party. Somehow we got talked into bringing Enjolras along, but he turned out to be pretty cool. We drank together, talked a lot…” Grantaire smirked. “We talked so much we were kind of like girls at a coffee shop. I’m usually not into having heart-to-hearts with other dudes.”

“Grantaire. Are you deliberately avoiding the subject?” Marius looked so serious that Grantaire started to feel a little nervous.

“Um. No. I told you all I know. Granted, the evening was a bit of a blur, but I spent most of my time with Enjolras. I wonder if he wants to hang out today and we can mourn over these hangovers together…” Grantaire started to reach for his phone, but Marius snatched it away from him and held it out of arm’s reach. “What the hell are you doing, Marius?”

“I don’t think talking to Enjolras right now is the best idea,” Marius seemed to be hedging around the subject, and Grantaire narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Grant. I really think you need to leave Enjolras alone for a while. Last night was too much for him to handle, regardless of how well you two got on.” The way he said those last few words made it sound as if…as if…

“Oh. My. God.” Grantaire froze, his eyes wide. “Did…did something happen? Between Enjolras and…me?” His voice got lower and his eyes more panicked. “Did I…did we screw? In Jehan’s house? Jesus Christ, Marius! Why weren’t you keeping an eye on us?!”

“No! God, Grant, calm down! You didn’t have sex with Enjolras. Good grief,” he rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “But…you might have kissed each other. I don’t know how long it was happening, I just turned around and suddenly the two of you were stuck together like Velcro.”

“Shit,” Grantaire fell back onto his pillows, sliding down into his bed and pulling the covers over his head. “No wonder Enjolras hates me. I’ve kissed guys when I was drunk before, but I usually remembered and we would all be completely mortified and then we would laugh it off later because they’re all regular guys and Enjolras is…” Grantaire had almost said ‘special,’ but caught himself. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to say it in front of Marius. Not when he wasn’t even sure of what he thought, himself. “Enjolras isn’t used to parties. Or being drunk, for that matter. How the hell am I supposed to handle this?”

“Well, Eponine has been calling you every five minutes, on the minute, for a  while. So she’s either still mad, or she really has something important to tell you.” Marius handed the phone over, and Grantaire took it reluctantly. Sure enough, he had thirty-eight missed calls from Eponine, a couple texts from some guys at the party, and one missed call from Jehan. That was probably going to be interesting.

“What exactly is she mad about?” Grantaire cringed on the inside to think of what might have happened when Enjolras woke up and recalled what had happened.

“Enjolras is upset, but he didn’t want to tell her why. He didn’t tell me either, because I guess he doesn’t remember that I was there and saw it happen. I don’t have any idea why he’s keeping it a secret, since he could use it as ammunition to prevent us from ever sending him to a party again, but he’s remaining tight-lipped, regardless. Eponine only knows that Enjolras is extremely distressed about something, and she’s right to assume it has something to do with you. You promised to take care of the guy and you may have done _too_ much ‘caring.’” Marius shrugged his shoulders. “I suggest you call Eponine and ask her to meet up with you somewhere. I have to go to class, so I’ll see you later. Don’t call Enjolras.” Marius stood, gave Grantaire an sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and left the room.

Grantaire had no idea how he was going to fix this. He had no idea what to say. He called Eponine, and she was really furious, and asked her to be at his place in an hour, and she reluctantly agreed. He placed his phone on the nighttable and then curled back up under his blankets, his mind running a million miles an hour.

Why hadn’t he remembered kissing Enjolras?

And why wasn’t he feeling the same sort of embarrassment and mortification that he usually felt when he found out he’d kissed another guy?

And doubly-why was he thinking that he wouldn’t mind kissing Enjolras again?

This was _so_ messed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. The smut is coming soon. Next chapter or the one after that.  
> And when I get around to telling Grantaire and Enjolras' backstories I'm not sure how accurate they're going to be, canon-wise. So bear with me!
> 
> Thanks for all the nice messages :D


	5. Enjolras Doesn't Want To Forget and Grantaire Doesn't Want To Either

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is about to come to terms with his feelings when Eponine tells him that Grantaire is indifferent. Then Eponine tells Grantaire that Enjolras is indifferent. Nothing could be further from the truth, in either case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Enjolras' part is super long and Grantaire's isn't. I just feel like Enjolras is the only one who would actually spend forever worrying about things and Grant would just dive right in.

** Chapter Five **

****

_~Enjolras~_

 

“No one talk to me,” Enjolras groaned, hiding his head under his pillow, desperately wishing that everyone would just disappear. Marius had started the hail-storm by coming in at eight thirty and throwing a bottle of Advil at him and a Fiji water bottle. Then he had demanded to know if he remembered anything from last night, and Enjolras had lied and said he didn’t. He didn’t know if Marius knew what had happened, but if he didn’t, he wanted to make sure no one ever found out.

Eponine had come in next, saying she had talked to Marius and she wanted to know right then if he was alright, if he was scarred for life, or if he was totally fine with the entire evening. Enjolras said he had had a terrific time, and then begged her to leave so he could go back to sleep.

He remembered _everything_.

Every. Last. Detail.

He remembered how soft Grantaire’s hair had been, how warm his skin was, how the electricity had run up his spine when Grantaire wrapped his arms around him. More importantly, he remembered how Grantaire’s mouth had felt on his own. He remembered that with such crystal clarity that he could close his eyes and imagine it was happening again and again and again.

Enjolras grabbed the edges of his pillow and pulled, squashing his face underneath it in an effort to squelch the feeling that was rushing up from his toes, the feeling that was making his cheeks warm. All these months, all this time, hating Grantaire based on a prejudice from his childhood. All this time he had spent pushing the guy off, never missing a chance to throw him down, going out of his way to avoid him…and then this comes up. This inexplicable, entirely embarrassing, extremely unfortunate incident. He had just up and smooched the guy, as plain as day, as bold as you please. Worse than that, he wasn’t going to deny that he had actually liked it.

The amount of hours that Enjolras spent stewing in his own hatred melded together; he had no idea how long he hid out in his room, barricading the door, turning off his phone, refusing to use the bathroom (though he really needed to go). He didn’t want to see Marius or Eponine in case he let something slip. Or maybe Eponine had brought Grantaire over.

Oh, God.

What if Grantaire remembered? It was his reputation that he usually did things when he was drunk and never remembered he had done them, but Enjolras had always suspected that was just an act to get out of consequences for his drunken actions. He hoped to God he was wrong. If Grantaire remembered, there would be no avoiding it. He had probably told Eponine and Marius already and that’s why they had left him alone all day; they knew what had happened and they didn’t want to prompt him if he didn’t want to talk about it, because they didn’t want to upset him. Oh, God. How was he ever going to play this down?

It was one thing to blow it off if it had been something stupid he had done under the influence of alcohol and then promised never to do it again, but it was an entirely different matter to try and blow it off if he wanted it to happen again.

He really wanted it to happen again.

Enjolras sat up in his bed, looking around his dark room. He had left his heavy curtains drawn to keep out the sunlight, since he knew that sunlight was absolutely loathsome when one had a hangover. His room was spotless; everything was in its place. His textbooks and notebooks were stacked neatly on his desk, waiting for him to finish his homework that was due on Monday. His entire life he had always been able to pin down the meaning and reason for everything else. Nothing was a surprise, and nothing went unplanned. He’d had a girlfriend in high-school, but he hadn’t really been interested in her. Marius had set them up. Romance wasn’t something he was interested in, it wasn’t important. Enjolras just wanted to get work done and rise to the top.

Now he realized that maybe it wasn’t a lack of romantic nature that had made him uninterested in relationships…it had been girls. Girls in general.

Enjolras didn’t like girls.

He liked guys.

He liked Grantaire, specifically.

He couldn’t plan this out, he couldn’t predict the outcome, he couldn’t put it down on paper. He was no longer in control of anything, and it was going to kill him. Not having Grantaire was going to kill him.

“ _Ugh!_ ” he fell back with a thump as his head hit the bed’s headboard. He let out another pitiful cry of unhappiness, reaching back to rub his head woefully.

He avoided Grantaire like the plague because he was in a stereotype that Enjolras hated: the alcoholic frat-boy who was careless and indiscreet, but it was also for another reason that Enjolras had pushed down the whole time, believing it to be some sort of fluke. Grantaire set him on edge in a way that wasn’t necessarily bad, but _no one_ made Enjolras nervous. The edgy feeling made him feel like he had to prove himself to Grantaire, like he had to prove he was his equal. Enjolras hated that. Those two reasons alone had made him dislike him more than he had disliked anyone ever before.

When they had been walking out to Grantaire’s car, and he had reached out and touched him, he had felt the same sparks he had felt when he had caught Grantaire at the party, and those sparks were only amplified to nearly dangerous capacity when they had kissed. That’s how he knew that the kiss wasn’t a mistake, an unlikely, strange occurrence of drunken nature. It was real. He hadn’t been drunk in the parking lot, and he had felt it then.

“ _Enjolras_.” Eponine was outside, and she sounded mad.

“What?” he called out, weakly. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He had to come to terms with the fact that he might be gay, and that wasn’t something he could do with Eponine ragging on him for the next ten hours.

“If you don’t open this door right now I will open it myself, and you won’t like what I’ll do if I have to do that,” she was dead serious, and there was no way Enjolras was going to challenge that. He pulled himself out of bed and slumped over to the door. He made sure he had the most miserable expression he could muster on his face and opened the door. “Thank you.” Eponine pushed past him and went straight to the curtains, flinging them open and flooding the room with light.

“What do you want, ‘Ponine?” he grumbled, going over to his desk and pulling out the black leather swivel chair, sitting down and tucking his legs up to his chest like a little girl. “I’m not exactly in the mood to talk right now.”

“I know you kissed Grantaire,” was all she said before pointing to the window. “It’s almost four in the afternoon. You have to get up sometime. Staying in bed isn’t the cure for a hangover. You need fresh air. Water. Maybe even some good coffee to get some caffeine in you.”

“What?” Enjolras blinked. Had she just said she knew he kissed Grantaire? The bastard _did_ remember. And he told Eponine. Which meant that Marius knew too.

“We’re going out to the café. Come on.” Eponine flung open his closet and pulled out a pair of white, blue pin-striped short and a navy blue blazer, and dropped them on his bed. “Get dressed. I’m going to go grab some shoes and brush my teeth, and when I get back, you better be ready to go.” She disappeared out the door, leaving Enjolras in a stunned state. Reluctantly he got up, putting on the outfit she had laid out for him without even thinking. What was she mad about? He already felt awful as it was; he hadn’t done anything to her.

He went into the bathroom, trying not to look at himself in the mirror because he knew he looked terrible, and brushed his teeth. He attempted to smooth out his crazy bed-hair, but to no avail. When Eponine came back, he followed her unhappily out of his room, down the hall, through the foyer, and out the front door into the parking lot. She didn’t say a word the whole time, and it was starting to make him upset.

“What do you want, Eponine? Why are you dragging me out?” they walked straight past her car, continuing down the street, out of the apartment complex gates, and down the main road towards town. She was making him walk. Granted, it wasn’t that far, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for walking, and his head ached like crazy. His mouth felt fuzzy and he just wanted to sleep.

“You need to get out,” she replied, biting her lower lip. She had more to say, but she was restraining herself. Enjolras couldn’t help it, and he snarled back:

“You wanted me to go out more, and I did, and look what happened. I kissed the guy I hate and everyone knows about it.”

A flicker of satisfaction went across Eponine’s face, and Enjolras realized too late that she had probably just wanted to hear it from his own mouth, and he had let her trick him into admitting it.

“So you _do_ remember what happened last night. You lied to Marius,” she said, a note of poorly concealed triumph in her voice. “You realize that he’s the one who pulled you off of Grant, right? He knew you kissed him this entire time.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” Enjolras mumbled, shoving his hands into his shorts pockets. “I’ve already relived it enough times myself.”

“You had a good time though, didn’t you?” The way she said it made it sound as if she had heard all of his thoughts as he had wallowed in his room. It sounded like she knew exactly how he felt about Grantaire now, and the more he thought about it, the more he appreciated the idea of Eponine knowing what he was going through. She would know what to do; she’d have some sort of cure for this.

“I did. How did you know?” It was best to figure out how much she knew before he blabbed anything.

“If you had hated your time there you would’ve used kissing Grantaire as ammunition. You would’ve said that horrible things like that happen when we force you out to do things that are out-of-character. But you didn’t. You haven’t even mentioned the party, which means that you had a good time but you don’t want to give us the satisfaction of knowing that we were right.” She smirked at him. “You didn’t mind kissing Grant.”

“I didn’t,” Enjolras replied, honestly. He was pleased to see the surprise on her face as he said it. So she hadn’t expected him to be forthcoming with the information. “But I don’t exactly know where to go from here. I can’t exactly face the guy after what happened.”

“As far as Grant knows, the whole thing was a mistake. Something that happened when the two of you were drunk. Grant has kissed guys when he was drunk before.” This didn’t make Enjolras feel any better. It actually made him feel worse. It hadn’t been a big deal to Grantaire; it was normal, even. It wasn’t special and significant like it was for him. That hurt more than he cared to admit.

“That’s brilliant.” Enjolras feigned relief. “I suppose we don’t have to worry about it anymore, then.”

“Are you saying you don’t like Grantaire, then? As…more than just…a normal person would?” Eponine looked slightly crestfallen, but if Grantaire didn’t think it was special, then neither would Enjolras. He would force himself to laugh it off, to forget it ever happened, and maybe it would go away for real.

“Of course not.” He replied, smiling at her. “It was just a kiss at a party. We weren’t in our right minds. It doesn’t matter, I guess.”

 _Now_ what was he going to do?

 

_~Grantaire~_

Grantaire had talked with Eponine, explaining his side of the story, but leaving out the part where he had actually enjoyed kissing Enjolras. That wasn’t something anyone besides himself needed to know. Eponine had promised to find out how Enjolras was really feeling and then give him the feedback. What if Enjolras had hated that he had kissed him, and was going to avoid him from now on out? The thought made Grantaire want to puke.

He was sitting at his desk, his forehead resting on the tabletop, his mind working so quickly he had trouble keeping up.

He had always liked girls. He often found himself wondering what it would be like to sweep Eponine off her feet, even though she was just his friend. Cosette, Marius’ girlfriend, was a total knock-out, and he had actually had a thing with her before he had set her and Marius up. He had really enjoyed that; Cosette was completely unpredictable if you got her in a charged situation.

Then suddenly Enjolras springs up out of nowhere, suddenly in the lives of his two best friends. Enjolras hates him for no reason, and that alone was enough to make Grantaire want to stick around. Enjolras had been impossible to read, delightfully surprising, and had the sharpest tongue Grantaire had ever come across. Grantaire had never thought his interest had been more than just…interest?

“I don’t like guys,” he muttered to himself, his lips barely separating to form the words. His lips had kissed Enjolras’ lips. The thought made him bite his lip and clench his hands into fists, trying to crush the thought. He didn’t even remember the kiss, but something told him it was wonderful. Something told him that if it happened again, he didn’t want to be drunk, and he wanted to be able to recall every single detail.

“Grant?” there was a knock on the door, and Courfeyrac came in. “I was wondering if you had seen the RA anywhere?” Grantaire shook his head, and Courfeyrac shrugged and disappeared. Grantaire let his shoulders slump again. This entire thing was more trouble than it was worth.

His phone rang, and he picked it up. There was a text from Eponine.

 **Eponine:** Enjolras says he’s just going to forget about it.

That was the final nail in the coffin. If Enjolras was going to pretend nothing had happened then it meant that he had really hated it.

Grantaire was miserable.

 **Grantaire:** That’s good, isn’t it? :)

 **Eponine:** If you think so.

 **Grantaire:** I do. Who needs that grump anyway?

 **Eponine:** You know you had a good time with him yesterday, regardless of what happened.

That made Grantaire crack a smile. He _had_ had a good time. He would do it again in a heartbeat.

 **Grantaire:** You’re right about that, love.

 **Eponine:** I’m always right.

Grantaire smirked to himself and placed his phone down on the desk and sat up. He felt a thrill of courage run through him, and he leapt to his feet and grabbed his fraternity hoodie off his bed post. He was going to find Enjolras, they were going to go out to eat or grab a drink or something. He was going to prove that they could just be friends and it didn’t have to be awkward just because of something that had happened one night.

And maybe, just maybe, he could convince himself that he didn’t need Enjolras the way he was starting to think that he needed him.


	6. Enjolras Sneaks Out and Grantaire Tries Plan B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras thinks about Eponine and then does something out-of-character, and Grantaire is surprised that any of his schemes have been working thus far.

** Chapter Six **

****

_~Enjolras~_

Coffee with Eponine was pleasant enough. She left well-enough alone and didn’t bring up the party again, using her feminine intuition to tell that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Instead, he asked her how her evening with Cosette had gone, and she went on and on about how much fun they had had. Cosette and Eponine were on their way to becoming really good friends, despite previous complications. Eponine had always had a thing for Marius, even before they had all started living together. Cosette had disliked Eponine purely because she lived with her boyfriend and she knew that Eponine liked him. Fortunately, Grantaire had stepped in and calmed the waters using his incomparable charm.

Enjolras sighed as the thought of Grantaire crept back into his mind. Even then, Grantaire had been in his life. The guy hadn’t ever done anything deliberately towards Enjolras; he was actually a great guy, now that he actually thought about it. There were so many times when he had been at their house for hours, consoling Eponine after she and Combeferre broke up. He had been the one to carry Eponine all the way to the hospital when she broke her leg falling out of the window (long story) and her car wouldn’t start. He had sat in the living room watching endless rom-coms with Eponine because she didn’t have any girlfriends to do it with her.

There were so many things that Grantaire did that used to annoy Enjolras, who thought he was only trying to get into Eponine’s pants, but he know knew were done because he legitimately loved Eponine. Her parents were insane, and after her little brother, Gavroche, died she had fallen apart, and Grantaire had been the only one there to hold her together until Marius and Enjolras had come along.

It was ridiculous that Enjolras had come up with terrible motivations for everything Grantaire had done just because he had been predisposed to hating him.

“Enjolras?” Marius came into the kitchen, a frown on his face. He was holding Enjolras’ cellphone in his hand, which was strange enough, but he was also wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist which was more than a little discomforting. When you discover that you might be gay, having your male room-mate walking around naked isn’t exactly the best course of action. “Your phone has been ringing off the hook. It’s driving me nuts.”

“Sorry,” Enjolras reached out and took the phone, not even looking at the display, instead dropping it face down on the counter. “I’ve just been thinking.” He swilled the glass of whiskey that he was holding, keeping his eyes steadily focused on Marius’ face so that his gaze wouldn’t wander. He had never felt attracted to Marius at all, but who knew what could happen now that he found himself going crazy of Grantaire?

“Are you…?” Marius walked over and snatched the glass, taking a sip. “Good God. You’re drinking Eponine’s whiskey. Who are you? Grant?” Too late he realized that it was an insensitive comment to make, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh, I’m sorry, Enras…”

“Dude. No worries,” Enjolras made an incredible effort and laughed, tossing back the rest of his drink. “It was just an accident. Both Grantaire and I have agreed just to forget about it. A funny story between friends, right?”

“Are you saying you and Grant are friends, now?” The smirk on Marius’ face made Enjolras want to punch him. In a friendly way, of course.

“I guess,” he huffed. Marius just grinned and walked away, presumably to finish taking a shower. “Don’t use all the hot water!” He yelled at his friend’s retreating back. Marius just laughed loudly and slammed the bathroom door. The prick.

Enjolras filled his glass with more whiskey and decided to see who had been begging for his attention.

When he saw that all of the missed calls and texts were from Grantaire, his heart skipped several beats and his lungs turned to ice. He blinked a few times and then opened the messages first:

 **Grantaire:** Hey, so I know Eponine is making a huge deal of everything, but it was nothing, right?

 **Grantaire:** Yeah, anyway…I was just thinking maybe we could go out tonight to clear the air.

 **Grantaire:** Unless you think that would be awkward.

 **Grantaire:** You probably _do_ think it’s awkward.

 **Grantaire:** WOAH. It looked like I was asking you on a date. That’s not what I meant. I meant, like, two bros going out for drinks to pick up women and be fierce warriors. You know. The usual.

 **Grantaire:** You don’t hate me again, do you?

 **Grantaire:** Enjie?

The use of the nickname he had been christened with the night before made his heart clench up, and Enjolras chewed on his lower lip nervously. He definitely didn’t hate Grantaire. In fact, he sort of idolized him now. Going out for drinks actually sounded like a better idea than sitting in the kitchen and drinking by himself, not to mention it would get him away from Marius’ smirking face and Eponine’s constant questions and wary eyes.

 **Enjolras:** If you can be here in ten minutes, I’m definitely in.

 

_~Grantaire~_

**Enjie:** If you can be here in ten minutes, I’m definitely in.

That nickname was one thing that Grant definitely remembered happening. It was still cute, and he had put Enjolras’ name in his phone as ‘Enjie’ just so that he would always remember that night. The text was another cause of joy in itself. Enjolras didn’t hate him and he actually wanted to see him; if anyone else had been in the room, his relief would probably have stifled them like a thick cloud.

Grant was dressed in a flash and out the door, running past his dorm-mates, ignoring their calls asking where the fire was, or how he had pissed off their RA this time. He was oblivious to them. All he knew was that he was going to see Enjolras again, and that was all that mattered. Even if it was going to be under completely friendly circumstances, he could at least hope.

 

~~~~~

“I honestly didn’t think you were going to come,” Grant said when Enjolras slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door quickly and instantly buckling up. Grant never buckled his seat-belt, ever, and there was something undeniably precious about how conscious Enjolras was about everything. The OCD that had sort of bothered him before was turning into an endearing trait he wouldn’t mind putting up with for years to come.

He shook his head violently, trying to shake the idea right out of his head. What was he thinking? Women. Think of sexy women in nothing but red velvet stilettos with chocolate drizzled across their stomachs.

“I felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house,” Enjolras admitted as they pulled out of the complex. “I didn’t really want Marius or ‘Ponine to know where I was going.”

“I can understand that,” Grant smiled. “The two of them are thick as thieves, and God knows what they would gossip about if they knew that the two of us had left together.” He stuttered as Enjolras tensed up. Shit, why had he said that? “Not that anything is going on, but you know they would make it into something,” he amended, but Enjolras’ shoulders remained slightly hunched, almost touching his ears. “So!” He started again, loudly, “music?”

“As long as it isn’t country,” Enjolras replied, spitting the word ‘country’ like it was poison he was trying to get off of his tongue. His tongue that might have been in Grant’s mouth last night; if only he could remember…

“Stop it, Grantaire,” he said to himself, momentarily forgetting that Enjolras was in the car.

“What?” Enjolras was frozen in position, reaching out to turn on the radio. His face was confused, and Grantaire wanted to lean over and kiss the tip of his nose to make the frown go away. “Did you say something?”

“Just talking to myself!” Grant replied, his voice chipper. “Proceed.” He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the radio. Enjolras fiddled around for a bit until the station was set to classic rock, and Grantaire grinned. “You have good taste, Enjie.” Something in Enjolras tensed even more when he said ‘Enjie,’ but he decided to ignore it.

“Classic rock is the only way to go,” the blonde replied, seriously. He took everything so literally and it was absolutely adorable. “Anything else is absolutely unacceptable.”

“I have to agree with you on that one.”

“Good. I’ll have you know I was the A team on my debate squad in high-school.” He said it with such a flourish that Grant snorted with laughter, glancing at his new friend from the corner of his eye.

“Bragging about nerdy things isn’t exactly cool, buddy,” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of his music. “What’s ‘A team’ mean anyway?”

“It means me and my partner were the best team on our squad,” Enjolras sniffed. “I was just going to say I could out-argue you any day of the week.”

“Oh, really?” Grant raised an eyebrow, and he saw Enjolras loosen up as they stepped into his element: arguing with everyone else, because he was so stubborn and always thought he was right. Grant admired a good bit of arrogance in a person.

“Most definitely. I believe I have, on multiple occasions.”

“We have gotten a lot of practice in, haven’t we?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras smiled. “We certainly have.”

They continued on that way, bantering back and forth, the conversation flowing easily, as if they had been friends for years instead of just mere hours. Grant felt comfortable with everyone, but something about Enjolras set him especially at ease now that they were on good terms. Everything about their personalities seemed to click. Opposites really did attract; he’d have to thank Eponine for that one later.

Or not, considering Enjolras wasn’t interested.

Grant himself wasn’t even sure if he was interested. He kept trying to force himself to think about girls and how sexy Cosette looked in black lace underwear, but it didn’t seem to work. Enjolras would say something completely ridiculous in a serious voice (he probably was serious, but, ironically, Grant couldn’t take him seriously) and all of his attention would be pulled back to the guy who was sitting next to him in the car.

It was terrible.

“Here we are!” Grant parked the car and pointed at bar across the street from them.

“Les Miserables?” Enjolras wrinkled his nose, squinting his eyes to see across the street. “That’s French for ‘the poor.’ That is not a poor-people bar. That’s a Marius Pontmercy bar.” Grant cracked up laughing at that, because it was completely true. Everything could be measured on the expense scale from ‘college student’ to ‘Marius Pontmercy.’ The guy was notorious for having unlimited cash.

The Les Miserables bar wasn’t the usual bar that Grant went to, but he figured he should start somewhere light to get Enjolras used to things, first. He didn’t want to drop him in the middle of some vampiric hooker lounge and expect him to get on just fine. Les Miserables was a vintage, French-inspired bistro during the day, and turned into a throbbing hotspot as soon as the sun went down. Grant had been here the first time several months ago and had fallen completely in love. It was gorgeous on the inside, the drinks weren’t shitty, and for some reason, it seemed like they didn’t even let unattractive people within three blocks of the place; Grant had never run into anyone he wouldn’t gladly bang when he came here.

 _And now Enjolras is here_.

Fuck. Where did _that_ thought come from?

“Let’s go in,” he managed to say, his mind still jumbled from involuntary thoughts. This was getting completely out of hand, and he was going to settle it once and for all. A new plan was forming in his head as he crossed the street, Enjolras right on his heels. He was going to get the guy drunk again, he was going to pull everything out of him, and Grant himself was going to remain entirely sober the entire time so he would be sure to remember it.

The plan was going to work this time.

And maybe Enjolras would try to kiss him again, and he would actually be able to enjoy it.

Getting the guy drunk was for purely selfish reasons, and he had absolutely no shame in admitting it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate those moments of dramatic irony where you know that they both know how they feel, but the other thinks that it's different. And now I've become one of 'those people' who writes things like that.  
> UGH.  
> I just want them to talk it out and know everything, but the TIME IS NOT RIGHT.


	7. Enjolras Gets Jealous and Grantaire Hears His Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras didn't realize that dancing provided so many opportunities for jealousy, and when Grantaire finally gets him drunk enough, he spills the story as to why he has always disliked the dark-haired college boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where I'm not so sure as to the accuracy of the canon regarding Enjolras' parents. So just try not to hate me if I screw something up beyond belief; I needed it to be this way to fit with the story-line.

** Chapter Seven **

****

_~Enjolras~_

The bar inside was completely crowded, and Enjolras found himself pressing closer to Grantaire in a fear that he might lose him. Grantaire, on the other hand, seemed completely in his element as he slipped easily between people, heading to the bar. He paused at a booth against the wall, one of the few open tables in the place, and told Enjolras to sit down before he got trampled. Enjolras obeyed without a second thought, and watched as Grantaire disappeared into the throng.

The vaulted ceiling rose so high above them that even the light couldn’t reach all the way up, and Enjolras could only make out faint, colourful patterns on the tiles above. It looked like some sort of exotic mosaic that you would see on the roof of a cathedral, and Enjolras wished he could see it in brighter light. Maybe they could come back during the day. The rest of the place was done up in vintage French décor, and Enjolras was impressed with their accuracy. He had gone with Marius on a trip to Paris last summer, and Les Miserables looked just like cafés and bistros they had visited whilst they were there. Given, there were a few minor alterations to turn it into a nightclub, like the enormous dance floor on the northern side of the room and the small stage where a DJ sat behind turn-tables, whizzing away. Enjolras couldn’t help thinking that the Americanization of the place ruined the ambiance, but he wasn’t going to complain; he could be anywhere and not give a shit, just so long as he was with Grantaire.

“Here you go,” Grantaire took a seat opposite him and slid an orange drink across the table. Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

“We’re not going to have a repeat of last night, are we?” Enjolras wanted to prove that he was just as indifferent as Grantaire was, so even though the words pained him to speak aloud, he had to do it. For both their sakes.

“Absolutely not!” Grantaire’s laughter was easy and light, and he held up his own drink, which was a startling shade of electric blue. “That’s just a screw-driver. Vodka and orange juice. You’ll be fine.”

“What on earth is _that?_ ” Enjolras waved his hand at the obnoxious blue drink.

“This is an aqua velva. You’re too young for this baby,” Grantaire took an enormous swig and slammed the glass back down on the table, smirking at Enjolras. Enjolras just rolled his eyes in response and took a sip of his screwdriver. He had to force back the urge to choke; this couldn’t just be vodka and orange juice, it was way too strong for that. “You alright there, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” there was no way in hell that Enjolras was going to admit that the drink was a little overwhelming. Not right after Grantaire had just taken a huge gulp of a drink he thought Enjolras couldn’t handle with absolutely any repercussions. “A little just went down the wrong way.”

“Of course,” Grantaire smirked at him over the rim of his glass and took another sip. “So. We need to go out on the floor, find ourselves some ladies, and bring them back to your place to upset Marius and Eponine.” The thought of doing that made Enjolras feel slightly sick, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

“I’ll definitely need to be more drunk for that,” Enjolras snorted, swirling his drink around.

“That can easily be arranged,” Grantaire’s look was positively devilish. “Finish that and I’ll get you another one.” Enjolras wasn’t sure if this was the reaction he wanted—getting drunk again around Grantaire probably wasn’t the best idea. But he wanted to have good time, and to prove to Grantaire that he wasn’t worried about anything anymore. Quickly, he forced down the rest of his drink, allowing himself a good choke while Grantaire wasn’t at the table. “Here you go!” Grantaire was back, this time with a different drink for Enjolras to try. “Finish that and you should be good to go!”

Sure enough, after they had talked more—mostly about useless things like how their classes were going—and Enjolras had finished his drink and Grantaire had finished his, Enjolras was feeling pleasantly buzzed and wobbled to his feet.

“Let’s dance,” he slurred, moving towards the dance floor and the pounding speakers. He saw Grantaire smile softly to himself before following, but he didn’t really care. Right now, he was going to have a good time. He didn’t feel anxious or nervous, and he wasn’t worrying about what homework he hadn’t done or what his mother would say if she knew he was out doing this. For the first time in his entire life, Enjolras felt free.

It wasn’t long before he picked up that there wasn’t all that much to dancing; you just threw your arms around and latched on to random people for only a few minutes at a time, shuffling from partner to partner and constantly keeping your feet moving and your arms waving. He could care less if he looked ridiculous (he was almost positive that he did) because he was having fun. A few songs went by, and Enjolras was starting to breathe more heavily, his hair sticking to his forehead. He was about to go and sit down when a girl grabbed his hands and spun him around, pulling him towards her as she started to dance with him.

Enjolras was going to push her away so he could go sit down, but when he looked up he saw Grantaire kissing a girl right in the middle of the dance floor, his hands holding either side of her face, her hands tangled in his hair. For a moment he was stunned, not quite sure of what he was seeing. He knew that nothing was going to happen between him and Grantaire; he had made sure to convince himself to forget about it, but the stab of hurt that went through his chest wasn’t easily ignored.

The urge to get revenge was sharp and tangible, and the only thing he could think of was continuing to dance, now with this girl who was actually very pretty, in hopes that Grantaire would notice that he was having a good time too.

 

_~Grantaire~_

Suggesting that they go out and dance had been a good idea; Enjolras seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, and Grantaire himself had always loved dancing, especially with complete strangers. You never had to see them again, so there were absolutely no boundaries. An hour into the raving, Grantaire bumped into a girl who looked impossibly familiar, and he made his way across the floor to her until they were face-to-face. When she noticed him, her eyes grew wide and a smile broke out across her blood-red mouth.

“Grant!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss right on his mouth. Grantaire reached up quickly to put his hands on either side of her face to push her away, but not before he noticed Enjolras staring at them from the corner of his eye. Almost as soon as Grantaire had gotten the girl off of him, Enjolras had already started dancing with a pretty red-head with such vigor that Grantaire wanted to go and step in between them to stop anything from happening. “I haven’t seen you since what, high school? God, you’ve changed so much!” the girl in front of him kept commandeering his attention, and it made him annoyed. Sure, he had come over expecting to get some sort of happy reunion with his high school girlfriend, but not if she was going to kiss him in front of Enjolras. Now the guy probably thought something was going on between them, even though nothing was.

“Arianna, hey,” he looked down at her, trying not to get captivated by her bright green eyes. Her eyes had always been the thing that did him in; they were a startling shade of almost unnatural green, vivid and forest-y and enormous. “I thought it was you.”

“I didn’t even notice you!” she beamed, reaching her arms out to pluck someone from the crowd. It was a black-haired girl with lavender eyes and delicate bone structure. “This is my girlfriend, Leia.”

“Leia? Like, Star Wars, Leia?” Grantaire frowned.

“The same,” Leia shrugged her shoulders and put an arm around Arianna’s waist as they were jostled by the crowd. “Arianna’s mentioned you before. You’re the guy who broke her heart, aren’t you?”

“That would be me,” he pretended to look guilty.

“He broke my heart into little pieces and threw me into the Saturday morning trash heap,” Arianna’s dark red lips pulled themselves into a pout as she stared up at Grantaire through her long, dark lashes. “I’ll always love you, Grantaire. Though now I have Leia, and girls are so much better than guys will ever be. I can see why you like them,” she gave Grant a wink and then pulled Leia towards her and sashayed back into the crowd, giving Grant a little wave as she disappeared.

Grantaire spun around, trying to locate Enjolras again after Arianna and Leia disappeared. He was still dancing with the blonde girl, his hands dangerously low on her waist. Time to intervene.

“Hey, Enjie!” he yelled into his friend’s ear, and Enjolras looked up, annoyed. “Let’s grab another drink and get out of here!”

“I’m busy!” Enjolras yelled back. The blonde was watching them both, her blue eyes amused.

“I can see that, but I think you should sit down before you pass out! You’ve had a lot to drink!”

“Go with your boyfriend, honey. There are plenty of other guys for me to dance with,” the blonde said with a friendly smile, touching Enjolras lightly on the arm. Enjolras’ face went a deep scarlet.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he mumbled.

“Definitely not boyfriends,” Grantaire jumped in, his face burning with what he was sure was the same colour as Enjolras’.

“I can see when two people like each other,” the blonde replied with a cat-like grin. “And you two definitely belong together. Have fun!” and with that, she vanished.

“Come on,” Grantaire tugged Enjolras back to their table and sat him down in the seat as he went to get them both another drink. He was going to get Enjolras an aqua velva and get him to confess everything. Right now.

He returned to the table, and Enjolras was still sitting in the seat with his eyes looking a bit glazed over. Grantaire handed him his drink, and he didn’t even look at it as he drank half of it in one go. Grantaire’s mouth dropped open.

“Once you get started, you can really hit it, huh?” he said, taking a sip of his own drink. Both of them were sweaty and exhausted, their muscles sore from dancing for hours. But it was exhilarating, and Grantaire luxuriated in the feeling.

“I told you I wasn’t a lightweight,” Enjolras snapped.

“The liquor gives you fangs!” crowed Grantaire, clapping his hands with delight. “How perfect!”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means you actually get nasty with me as opposed to just trying to beat me out with logic.” Grantaire explained. He watched as Enjolras finished off his drink, and knew that any moment now he would be able to begin his Spanish Inquisition phase. “You having a good time? Found anyone you want to take back with us, yet?”

“I don’t really care about girls,” Enjolras replied, flexing his fingers absently. “So no, I haven’t.”

“Really?” Grantaire leaned forward, interested. “That’s strange. But, on another note, tell me something.”

“What?”

“Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Alcohol is supposed to make you honest, Enjie,” Grantaire said, narrowing his eyes. The guy was obviously susceptible to hypnotic suggestion (Eponine had proved that) and alcohol was pretty close to hypnotism, so it was worth a shot. “So why do you hate me?”

“I really don’t hate you!” Enjolras’ voice rose towards the end of his sentence. “I just…before, before I actually knew you I didn’t like you. I guess you could say I hated you.” Now they were getting somewhere.

“Why?”

“Because.” Enjolras seemed reluctant to let loose what the issue was. “There were reasons.”

“Are you going to tell me what those reasons were?”

“Not here,” Enjolras shook his head lazily, pulling himself from the booth. “I don’t want to have to yell the entire story.”

“In that case, let’s head home.” Grantaire followed suit and let Enjolras lead him out of Les Miserables. The air outside was refreshingly cool, and Grantaire closed his eyes and tilted his face upward, letting the breeze run over his sweaty forehead. “I parked across the street.”

“No driving while intoxshicated,” Enjolras slurred over the word, but his eyes were dead serious. Even drunk as shit, the guy was still responsible, and Grantaire couldn’t exactly point out that he’d deliberately not drank enough alcohol to be a danger, otherwise Enjolras would instantly know that something was up.

“Good point. Let’s go for a walk then,” Grantaire grabbed Enjolras’ arm and pulled him down the street. There were a couple of cars driving past, and groups of people dressed up in their clubbing outfits were looking for a place to go. It was the scene that Grantaire had always loved, and the scene he had always been the most comfortable in. So many people, the opportunity to be completely anonymous, to be a completely different person than who you really were. There were times when Grantaire had wanted to be someone else, and here, in the middle of the night with throngs of strangers, he had that chance.

“So,” Enjolras began, his words coming out slowly, as if he were thinking over each one. “When I was fourteen, I was out at a friend’s house having a sleepover.” Grantaire giggled at the word ‘sleepover’ until Enjolras silenced him with a glare. “Anyway. We were having a sleepover, and we were watching a movie and trying to fall asleep. The phone started ringing, and my friend’s mom answered it. Suddenly her voice changed, and I was caught off guard. I could tell from the tone of her voice that something was wrong, and I wanted to know what it was. I went into the kitchen, and when she saw me, her eyes filled with tears and she started apologizing to me.” They had reached a park entrance, and Grantaire steered him in that direction.

The path was dark, there were no streetlamps guiding their feet now, only the trees surrounding them and the chirping of crickets. Enjolras swallowed hard and continued.

“I didn’t know what the she was apologizing for, but she said that my mom would be here soon and that I had to go home. I asked her if I had done something wrong, or if I was in trouble, but instead she gave me a hug and said my mom would answer all my questions when she got there.” Enjolras took a deep, shaky breath, and when Grantaire looked over, he realized it was because he was crying. Tears were leaking silently down his face, and the sight was enough to make Grantaire want to hold him in his arms and never let go.

“You don’t have to tell me this,” he said quietly, reaching out to touch Enjolras’ arm.

“No, I have to tell you. You need…” Enjolras sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve in such a child-like gesture that it only made Grantaire need to hold him more. “You need to know why…why I never could stand the sight of you.”

“Okay,” Grantaire said slowly, halting on the path. “Let’s sit down then. You’re stumbling around enough as it is.” Grantaire pushed Enjolras off the path and into the grassy field to the left, right along the shore of a pond. The water was deliciously clear, the moon reflected perfectly on the pond’s glassy surface. Grantaire made sure Enjolras was sitting down before he let him continue the story.

“My mom got there, and she was crying so hard I couldn’t understand a word of what she said, at first.” Enjolras was flinching, as if he were remembering the night all over again. “After a while, I figured out what she was saying: my father had been in a car wreck, and he was announced dead on the scene.”

“Enjolras…”

“We went to the court hearing a few days later,” Enjolras said loudly, talking over Grantaire. “It was a college boy. He was in a frat. He was an alcoholic. He was arrogant and stupid and I hated him on sight. He had been drinking that night, and because of his idiocy, my father was killed.” Enjolras sniffed, clasping his hands together in his lap. “But it wasn’t just him. His friends were in the car, too. They were all the same. They were all drinking, partying, frat-boys. And they were all fine. Not a scrape, not a bruise. Nothing. And my father was dead.”

The silence that stretched between them seemed almost endless, and Grantaire couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would even begin to fill it. Grantaire was just like those kids that had killed Enjolras’ father. Just like them. He knew he was, in his heart. There had been times when Grantaire had been driving drunk and almost hit someone, and he had never thought a thing of it, just because nothing had _actually_ happened.

Enjolras had hated him based on a stereotype, but he was right about everything; Grantaire could’ve easily been the guy to kill his dad.

“So I hated you.” Enjolras said finally, his voice quiet. “But now that I know you, it’s hard to hate you anymore. You’re not like those boys were. They were arrogant. They didn’t feel any remorse for what they did; that much was clear during the court trial. They got off with a fine and community service, but I wanted them put away forever.” Enjolras tilted his head back, trying to stem the flow of tears. “I’m sorry.”

“ _You’re_ sorry?” Grantaire scoffed. “Please. You haven’t done anything. I could never hold your feelings against you, especially when they’re actually well-justified. I _am_ a selfish frat-boy. You know I am.”

“But the fact that you said what you just said proves that you are nothing like they were,” the soft smile on Enjolras’ face was enough to make Grantaire’s heart melt down to his toes. “So I don’t hate you, Grant. Not by a long shot.”

They stared at each other, and Grant was so close to closing his eyes and leaning in to kiss him, but instead leapt to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing?” Enjolras sounded so surprised that Grantaire burst out laughing.

“We have to do something to lighten to mood now,” he replied, grinning widely. “We’re going for a swim.”

“A swim? But…my swim trunks are…” Enjolras began, but Grantaire reached down and interrupted him by pulling him to his feet.

“You don’t need a swim suit to swim, idiot,” he said, pulling off his jeans. “You go naked. It’s called skinny dipping.” The blank look on Enjolras’ face made him hesitate. “Have you…have you never gone skinny dipping before?”

“Of course not!” Enjolras sounded absolutely repulsed. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because it’s fun, that’s why,” Grantaire said patiently. “Now get undressed. We’re swimming.”

It didn’t take any more than that for Enjolras to strip down with him, and they both jumped into the water, yelling when the icy water touched their skin, only to burst into laughter as they swam out to the middle, kicking and splashing as if they were kids who would never be restrained again.


	8. Enjolras Wakes Up and Grantaire Doesn't Want To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is surprised by his drunken suggestion the night before, and wakes up to deal (happily) with the results. Grantaire thinks that spending time with Enjolras is the best idea he's ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long!  
> I'm a slacker.

**Chapter Eight**

_~Enjolras~_

The rest of the night passed in a blur, and Enjolras loved every second of it. After they had pulled themselves out of the water (Grantaire suddenly became worried that Enjolras was going to drown because he was drunk) they laid out in the grass until they were dry enough to get dressed in their clothes again. Enjolras had thought that with all the one-sided sexual tension from himself, them being naked within one hundred feet of each other would be absolutely unbearable.  
But it wasn’t.  
It was easier than breathing, like it wasn’t even uncommon for them to just be laying out in their birthday suits, humming the same Van Halen song as loudly as they could. Grantaire would harmonize, and it actually sounded pretty good, and Enjolras felt his spirits lift even higher than they already were.  
Once they were dressed, Grantaire declared himself sober enough to drive, and Enjolras didn’t have the heart to argue with him. It seemed like he was pretty sober when they both climbed into the car and he started driving. They talked about things Enjolras couldn’t seem to recall, and when they got to Enjolras’ apartment, everything seemed even hazier. So hazy he couldn’t seem to recall any of the rest, just like when he had blacked out at Jehan’s party and Marius had to carry him back home.  
“Boys! Get up! Time to eat!” Eponine’s voice was so loud and obnoxious that Enjolras groaned loudly and pulled his pillow over his face. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to do anything. His head hurt, his stomach felt queasy, and his eyes were grainy with sleep. He didn’t want to go to class or do anything productive except lay in bed and maybe text Grantaire to see if they could go out again. Even if he couldn’t have everything out of his relationship with Grantaire that he wanted, at least he could make a good friend out of it.  
“Tell her to go away,” mumbled a voice to his left, and Enjolras froze. Very slowly, Eponine’s words came back to him. ‘Boys.’Plural.More than one. Was Marius in his room? No. He knew that wasn’t who it was. He knew exactly who it was, and the thought made him feel so wired that his entire body seemed to be buzzing with electricity. “Seriously, Enjie. I’m sleeping. ‘Ponine can fuck off…”  
Sure enough, it was Grantaire. Sprawled out on the right side of the bed, the covers half over his body, one arm slung across his face to cover his eyes. His curly black hair stuck out every which way, and there were signs of stubble coming out on his chin. Enjolras wanted to lean across and kiss every inch of Grantaire’s perfect face.  
“What?” he said, in lieu of frightening away his friend with his overwhelming affection. “How long have you been here?”  
“Since last night,” Grantaire replied, his voice hoarse. “You told me it wasn’t safe for me to drive home, regardless of how sober I was, and you made me stay here. Said it was like having a sleepover or something.”  
“I said that?” Enjolras was absolutely mortified. Alcohol. Good God.  
“Yeah, word for word.” Grantaire propped himself up on his elbows and looked over at Enjolras, and he practically melted under his blue-eyed gaze. “You don’t mind, do you?”  
“Absolutely not,” Enjolras replied, his voice sounding a little breathy to his own ears. He winced inwardly, but Grantaire didn’t seem to notice his tone of voice and instead slumped back down onto the mattress.  
“Great. Because I’m still tired and I vote we go back to sleep.”  
“Eponine made us breakfast.”  
“Who cares? I’m not getting up. If she wants me to eat it, she can bring it in on a silver breakfast tray.” Grantaire mimed clapping his hands as if calling for service, and turned his head to the side to smile at Enjolras, who smiled back.  
“I guess you’re right. My classes today aren’t really that important, and Courfeyrac will film the lectures for me.” Enjolras laid back down, placing his arms loosely at his sides. His right forearm was just barely touching Grantaire’s, and heat just seemed to pulse there like a furnace beneath the covers. Grantaire didn’t seem to notice though, and started going on about how Eponine could serve him, but Enjolras wasn’t listening. All he could focus on was how close he was to touching Grantaire, and his breathing was getting so shallow, and…  
Oh, God.  
Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut, the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment as he felt all his blood rush south, putting him in the most uncomfortable position he had been in in years.  
“…ay, Enjie?” Grantaire still had his head turned to the side, and was looking worried.  
“What was that?” Enjolras whispered, biting his lower lip, trying to ignore what was happening beneath the comforter and praying to God that Grantaire wouldn’t notice.  
“I asked if you were okay. You were making an extremely pained face there for a second.”  
“Hangover,” he lied in response. “I should probably go back to sleep.”  
“I’ll text Eponine and tell her to go away,” Grantaire said, supplying his agreement. Enjolras watched as Grantaire rolled over onto his side to grab his phone from the floor. Once it was in his hands, he fired off a text to Eponine, but not before Enjolras noticed that his name was set as ‘Enjie’ on the conversation thread in Grantaire’s inbox. A blush rose to his cheeks and he tucked his shoulders up to his ears to try and squelch the wave of happiness that gave him. He didn’t mind the nickname, not anymore. Not after what it symbolized to him; the one moment when he had been sure there had been something sparking between them.  
“Great,” Enjolras tore his eyes away from Grantaire and closed them, trying to go back to sleep. He heard Grantaire drop his phone back onto the floor and give a little grunt as he rolled back over, pulling the comforter up to his chin. A few minutes passed, during which Enjolras was hyper-aware of the fact that Grantaire was sleeping in his bed, when he heard the steady rhythm of Grantaire’s breathing, indicating that he had finally fallen asleep.  
Things weren’t going to be so bad, not anymore. Enjolras could live with this. Being friends with Grantaire was sure to provide more than one significant adventure, and eventually Enjolras would get over what weird attraction he held for the guy and everything could go back to normal.  
As he lay thinking about it, trying to convince himself that he would be fine with that outcome, Grantaire mumbled something in his sleep and slung his arm around Enjolras’ waist, curling his body around Enjolras’ from behind.  
It was impossible to go back to sleep after that.

_~Grantaire~_

Grantaire hadn’t slept this well since he was a kid and his mom had tucked him into bed at night. That was before the divorce, though. The last time he had gotten a good tucking-in had been when he was five, about to go on six, but his parents split a week before his sixth birthday, and his birthday was entirely forgotten that year.  
Having Enjolras so close to him as he went to sleep was the ultimate sleeping drug; he couldn’t resist the heavy pull of his eyelids as soon as he felt Enjolras’ body warmth seep over him from under the covers. When they had gotten home from Les Miserables, Enjolras had refused to let Grantaire leave again, though it hadn’t been hard to convince him to stay. They collapsed on Enjolras’ bed, much to Marius and Eponine’s amusement, and no one had disturbed them or asked any questions until Eponine came to wake them up for breakfast.  
Grantaire remembered falling back asleep after telling Eponine to stay away, but when he woke up and found himself with his body curled around—and practically moulded to—Enjolras’, he couldn’t seem to recall how he got that way. His body was stiff where Grantaire was touching him, and even though he wished he could stay there forever, it was obvious that Enjolras was uncomfortable, so Grantaire rolled away and sat up, trying to push away the disappointment that was rising in his chest.  
“So. Are we ready for breakfast now?” he asked, running his hands through his curly hair, attempting the make it lie flat.  
“Breakfast,” Enjolras said it slowly as if he wasn’t sure what the word even meant. Grantaire elaborated, unsure if Enjolras had actually understood or not.  
“You know: food in the morning. Pancakes and waffles and sausage and little biscuits.” Grantaire waggled his fingers and then mimed eating something with a gigantic knife and fork.  
“Sausage,” Enjolras pointed a finger at his mouth and pretending to throw up. “Not a good idea.”  
“Oh yeah, I forgot you were a vegan-freak.” Grantaire rolled off the edge of the bed, and started looking around on the floor for his jeans. He had been sleeping in his boxers, and he wondered too late if that had been yet another cause of Enjolras’ discomfort. He looked down at the red and blue plaid, unsure of whether or not he had just made a huge faux pas and frightened the poor guy away. But as he looked up, and saw Enjolras rummaging through his chest of drawers for a pair of pants, he realized that Enjolras wasn’t even half as bothered as Grantaire thought he was. In fact, it looked like he was completely indifferent to what had just happened, as if he had already forgotten.  
“Here,” Enjolras tossed a pair of dark grey cashmere sweats at Grantaire’s face, along with a light blue cotton t-shirt. “Wearing jeans in the morning has to be the most uncomfortable thing I have ever experienced, ever.”  
“Since when do you wear jeans?” Grantaire laughed, gratefully pulling on the sweats. They were obviously a present from Eponine, since Grantaire knew instantly that Enjolras would never have purchased something so frivolous for himslf.  
“Since Jehan’s party, actually,” Enjolras replied easily, and Grantaire felt a small pang at how relaxed Enjolras sounded, as if he could care less what had happened the night of Jehan’s party. “I only have the one pair, but I tried putting them on right after I woke up, and it just made me feel absolutely ridiculous. Sweats are where it’s at.”  
“Enjolras, those are the last words I ever would’ve expected out of your prissy, suit-clad, loafer-wearing self!” Grantaire pulled the blue shirt over his head, trying not to think about the fact that he was wearing Enjorlas’ clothes after staying the night in his bed. If something had actually happened, it would’ve been a romantic scene in a movie.  
“I love sweats!” Enjolras cried, rubbing a pair of lavender ones between his hands and waving them around in Grantaire’s face. “You just haven’t been around to see me lazing around in them all the time.”  
“I’m pretty sure those are Eponine’s,” Grantaire fought back a laugh as he snatched the lavender pants out of Enjolras’ hands.  
“No, they’re mine,” Enjolras’ cheeks went a little pink. Grantaire had never seem anything so adorable. “They used to be white until Eponine washed them with her colours. They’re still my favourite pair.”  
“Ah, Enjolras of the Purple Sweatpants. This I will never forget.” Grantaire opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway, making his way towards the kitchen. He hoped Eponine had left something out for them.  
“Grant!” Sure enough, Eponine was still in the kitchen, a pink and yellow lace apron tied around her waist, her dark hair pulled up in a wavy ponytail, and a huge grin on her face. She was simultaneously making cupcakes, and as she waited for them to cool down so she could ice them with bright blue and orange frosting, she was sewing what looked like a cross-stitch sampler/pillow thing. She was too artsy for her own good. “Glad to see you’re up! Did you have a good night?” she gave him the once-over. “I see you and Enras are close enough to be sharing clothes now.”  
“Make me breakfast, wench,” was all Grantaire said in response, taking a seat on one of the black varnished bar stools at the counter. “I’m starving. Enjie will be out here in a second.”  
Eponine didn’t complain or anything, she just set down her sewing project and opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of heavy cream and a package of eggs. “Enjie, huh?” she said, her head still stuck in the fridge. “Sounds like you guys are already best friends.”  
“I wouldn’t say best friends, but we’re getting along better than we were a week ago,” Grantaire grinned, and then pointed at the orange juice carton that was sitting in the refrigerator door. “Give me a glass of orange juice. I want orange juice.”  
“Of course, monsieur,” Eponine rolled her eyes and grabbed the orange juice on her way out of the fridge. She got out a green plastic cup and poured him a glass, setting it in front of him with a little curtsy. “I’m at your command.”  
“You always were a good peasant,” Grant reached across the counter to pat her on the head, and she smiled and rolled her eyes again, turning around to start making him breakfast.  
“Eponine?” Enjolras’ voice floated down the hall. “Can you make me some breakfast?”  
“Your waffles are in the microwave!” She called back, currently whisking eggs in a plastic bowl for Grantaire. “And I chopped some strawberries, and those are in the fridge!”  
“Thanks!” Enjolras yelled back.  
“What’s he doing?” Grantaire frowned, tilting his chair back in an effort to see down the hall.  
“Brushing his teeth and his hair, flossing, washing his face, putting on chapstick, curling his eyelashes…” Eponine let the sentence trail off and shrugged her shoulders, pouring the whisked eggs into a frying pan that she had heated up on the stove. “He does it every morning.”  
“He curls his eyelashes?!”  
“Well, that eyelash curler in the bathroom certainly isn’t mine.”  
“Good God.” Grantaire started laughing, his arms wrapped around his stomach, leaning so far forward that his forehead touched the counter. “He is just so strange.”  
“You’re telling me,” Eponine smirked, stirring the eggs in the pan before putting an English muffin in the toaster and getting out a plate. “You should see his evening routine. It’s even stranger.”  
“I guess he was too drunk last night to go through with that,” Grant laced his fingers together and placed them behind his head, leaning backwards. “I wonder if he had nightmares last night about not completing his nightly routine, that OCD bastard.”  
“Are you calling me an OCD bastard?” Enjolras came out of the hall, one hand in the pocket of his powdered lilac sweats, the other scratching his blond head. “I’m offended.”  
“You’re always offended,” Eponine opened the microwave and pulled out a plate of waffles and then got the cup of strawberries out of the fridge, placing them in front of Enjolras, who had just taken a seat next to Grantaire. “Now eat before Marius gets home and finds out that you’re not in class for a second day.”  
“Sometimes I forget I even go to college,” Grantaire said, smiling his thanks as Eponine placed his finish plate of scrambled eggs and his English muffin in front of him. “I almost never show up.”  
“How are you even passing?” Enjolras was very carefully cutting his already square waffles into smaller squares, and placing bits of strawberry in a complicated pattern across the top.  
“I have my ways,” Grantaire waggled his eyebrows and shovelled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, continuing to talk around them. “They include having friends who record the lectures for me to listen to while I sleep, and often times paying Courfeyrac to write my papers for me.”  
“Sounds like you’ve got everything under control,” Eponine replied, sarcastically, tapping the top of a cupcake to see if it had cooled. Seeming satisfied, she picked up her frosting gun and began to frost them. “Congratulations, Grant.”  
“Thank you.”  
“I was being completely sarcastic.”  
“Sarcasm goes right over my head, sweet-heart. I like to believe that everyone is being genuine all the time.”  
“Sorry to disappoint.”  
“As am I, Eponine. I expected better from you.”  
“Shut up, Grant.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” Grantaire winked at Enjolras and continued to eat, watching Eponine frost the cupcakes. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up again. “So. What are we doing today?”  
“I’m hoping Enjolras will go to his afternoon classes,” Eponine turned around to raise an eyebrow at her room-mate. “It’s not like you to skip this much; I think Grant is a bad influence on you.”  
“I don’t need you to be my mother, ‘Ponine,” Enjolras yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “Besides. Grantaire and I have all sorts of plans for today. Right?” He glanced sideways at his friend, hoping that he would come up with something really quickly, because surprisingly, he wasn’t worried about attending class. In fact, half of the things that he was usually worried about were seeming entirely unimportant right now; he just wanted to be with Grantaire, wherever the guy decided he wanted to be. Grantaire caught all of that in one look, and jumped instantly to the rescue:  
“Yeah, I’m taking Enjie down to the Boardwalk. We’re going to eat ice-cream and be men.”  
“Eating ice-cream definitely sounds like a manly activity.” Eponine looked edgily at Enjolras, and Grantaire knew that she was really worrying about the guy; even Grantaire knew that skipping class was extremely out-of-character, and he wondered if he really was a bad influence on the straight-edge student.  
He hoped not, because he didn’t want anything else to separate them; the list of differences was already too long.  
“We should get going in a second. Mind if I use your shower?” Grantaire got to his feet, and Enjolras shook his head, indicating that he didn’t mind. “Great. We’ll be out of here in an hour.”  
Another day spent with Enjolras? Yes, please. Grantaire left the room with a smile beginning to spread across his face.


	9. Enjolras Enjoys "Dirty" IceCream and Grantaire Has A Big Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras can't stop the thoughts creeping through his mind as he enjoys a sweet afternoon snack, and Grantaire is struck by a boating inspiration...and has to deal with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been SO LONG.  
> But I've finished Chapter 9 and we're back on the road again!  
> I hope you guys are still interested. :)

** Chapter Nine **

****

_~Enjolras~_

“One scoop of vanilla, please,” Enjolras ordered his ice cream and watched as the man behind the counter grabbed a waffle cone with a napkin wrapped around it and scooped some of the white ice cream up into it.

“Vanilla? Are you serious?” Grantaire stood behind him holding an enormous waffle cone dipped in dark chocolate sprinkled with Heath bits, and that wasn’t even the ice-cream part. He had one scoop of Birthday Cake ice cream that was coloured an obnoxious, cobalt blue, scattered with rainbow sprinkles. The scoop on top was pistachio-almond, a garish green with chunks of brown nuts in it. It hurt Enjolras to look at the disorganized, dripping, uncoordinated mess. He looked away quickly.

“It’s simple, classic, clean-cut.” Enjolras replied with a dignified sniff. He paid the ice-cream man and turned around to face Grantaire, deliberately keeping his eyes away from the melting cone in Grantaire’s hand. “I don’t like having more than two colours on my ice-cream. The cone is one colour, the ice-cream is another. That’s how it should always be.”

Grantaire blatantly lifted his cone up to Enjolras’ eye-level and forced him to look at the chaotic mess, the colours spinning in a revoltingly psychedelic pattern as he waved it around.

“This really bothers you?”

“Very much so.”

Grantaire’s lips quirked into a deliciously kissable smirk, and he took an enormous bite out of the pistachio-almond part of his ice-cream, looking Enjolras right in the eye as he did so. It sent shivers down Enjolras’ spine, and he could only wish that Grantaire were wrapping his lips around something completely different…

“Are you alright?” Grantaire had focused his worried blue eyes on Enjolras’ face. “You looked a little out of it for a second.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Enjolras stammered, his cheeks turning pink. “Brain-freeze. You know.”

“You haven’t even licked your ice-cream.”

Enjolras coughed nervously. “Anticipatory brain freeze then.” This elicited a laugh from Grantaire which in turn brought a smile to Enjolras’ face.  They started walking down the sidewalk towards the Boardwalk, their empty hands swinging at their sides, and every time Enjolras accidentally touched Grantaire’s fingers he felt his ears turn a bright red. Any contact at all elicited the most ridiculous response and Enjolras wished he could control it; the last thing he needed was Grantaire noticing that something was up.

“I think Eponine thinks I’m going to ruin you,” Grantaire said finally, taking another lick of his ice-cream cone. Enjolras pretended he didn’t notice the way his tongue curled around the top of the second scoop. “It was obvious from how she was talking in the kitchen this morning that she thinks I’m a terrible influence, though I have to tell you that she encouraged me to take you out in the first place. She brought this on herself if she thinks that it’s a bad idea.” Enjolras had to smile out how careless Grantaire sounded when he talked about not caring about Eponine like that. It was obvious from past actions that Grantaire cared very deeply for Eponine, and this kind of talk only accentuated it.

“You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do,” Enjolras replied, honestly. “So whatever Eponine thinks about you is wrong. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”

“I suppose you want me to be flattered,” Grantaire looked at Enjolras from the corner of his eye, and Enjolras managed to suppress the flush that wanted to rise to his cheeks.

“Of course not. I was just saying…” he leapt to his own defense, and it set Grantaire into a fit of laughter.

“Calm down. I wasn’t attacking you. I have to admit that I enjoy your company as well.” These words coming from Grantaire’s mouth made something inside Enjolras click so distinctly that he could’ve sworn he even heard the clicking sound echoing in his ears. He was no longer a pet-project assigned to Grantaire by Eponine and Marius; they were friends. Even after the past and the months of hating each other they had managed to reach this point, and who knew it would be emotionally-charged than just an average, run-of-the-mill friendship?

They walked along in silence, the ocean finally coming into view on the horizon. Several other people seemed to have had the same idea about ditching class and coming to the Boardwalk instead. They reached the end of the sidewalk and crossed the street that went out onto the wooden deck that stretched far out into the ocean. They went past several parents corralling their screaming, excited children, past couples holding hands or kissing on the benches that lined the deck. Enjolras tried to avoid looking at them and imagining him sitting there with Grantaire instead. He gave his head a slight shake to clear it of the haunting images and instead focused on the sparkling ocean just mere feet away.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, taking another lick of his ice cream cone. He stared out across the water, watching as white-capped waves rushed towards them, crashing against the wooden pillars beneath them. He looked to his right and saw Grantaire just watching him, a small smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing.” The smile remained in place and Grantaire turned his head back to look out at the ocean. “It really is beautiful.” Something in his voice made Enjolras shiver as pleasant tingles ran down his spine. A niggling voice in his head said that maybe Grantaire hadn’t been talking about the ocean.

“So what are the plans for today? Any alcohol involved?” Enjolras smirked at his friend, moving to his left to sit on an unoccupied bench. Grantaire followed him and slouched down on the seat, taking an enormous bite out of the top of his ice cream. Enjolras widened his eyes a little in surprise, wondering how exactly the dark-haired boy didn’t get intense brain freeze from that big of a bite.

“Maybe,” Grantaire said, his voice muffled through the ice cream. “I was actually struck by some inspiration as we were looking out at the water, but I’m thinking we need to take _The Barricade_ out for a party.”

_The Barricade_ was Marius’ luxury yacht that his father had gotten him for his last birthday. Marius had taken Enjolras, Eponine, Cosette, Combeferre (who was dating Eponine at the time), and Grantaire out to the Bahamas with his family for the week. Enjolras had personally hated it because everyone there was paired up and he was left to spend time with Grantaire while the couples were out cavorting on the beach. Mr. Pontmercy had purchased the yacht and given it to Marius on the last day, and Marius had insisted that they all sail back to the States instead of taking the plane. _That_ had been fun. Enjolras absolutely adored sailing.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t taken the gorgeous boat out since that trip, since Eponine had refused to get on board because it would remind her of “happier times” spent with Combeferre. Hopefully she was over that now. It had been almost an entire year since they had broken up.

“That sounds like an amazing idea,” Enjolras took another lick of his ice cream cone. “Is Marius free this evening?”

“It’s Friday. He undoubtedly has plans. But he _will_ clear them.” Grantaire said this with such determination that Enjolras couldn’t help but snort with laughter. Grantaire frowned slightly and looked at him. “What are you laughing at?”

“You sounded so…so… _violent_. Like Marius was going to either come with us or die.” Enjolras kept giggling, holding his cone up to hide his face whilst he laughed. Grantaire started laughing too.

“You are absolutely ridiculous. Come on, let’s head back to your place and tell Eponine that she has to come with us…” he trailed off and then waggled his eyebrows at Enjolras. “Or die.”

Enjolras cracked up all over again.

_~Grantaire~_

“It’s going to be oceans of fun!” Grant threw his arms wide as Eponine looked at him skeptically over the counter. “I promise you. This is going to be a blast.” It was late afternoon, the sun was about to set, and they were all huddled in the apartment kitchen while they waited for Marius to return with Cosette. The plan that had started as just a party for one night on _The Barricade_ had turned into a weekend trip down the coast in the yacht. Enjolras had seemed more than willing to go on this trip, and so Grantaire had pushed it to make it as long as possible, thus extending it to the entire weekend.

“I just…don’t know…” Eponine started fiddling with the zipper of her makeup bag, which was laying on the counter in front of her. “Combeferre and I…”

“Had sex for the first time on Marius’ yacht. Yes, I remember. My room was right next door to yours.” Grantaire rolled his eyes and Eponine glared at him. “It’s been almost an entire year, E. You’ve got to let go sometime.”

“Thank you for your complete sensitivity,” she snapped, and she stalked down the hall and Grant heard her slam her bedroom door. He groaned to himself and slumped down on one of the barstools. Bringing up Combeferre like that had been more than a little insensitive. Sometimes things just came out of his mouth without him actually thinking about it. He always regretted it. Always.

“What’s Eponine upset about?” Enjolras finally emerged from his room, tugging a small suitcase behind him. He dumped it on the couch in the living room behind Grant and pulled out a barstool next to him. “She never slams her door.”

“I was a total douchebag and brought up Combeferre again,” Grant shrugged his shoulders and ran his hands through his hair. “I just don’t know how she can still be so hung up over it.” Enjolras was quiet for a while, and Grant knew that he was probably thinking of some dorky, pseudo-philosophical thing to say in response in hopes to alleviate the situation. He waited patiently for the “words of wisdom.”

“Girls just process things differently, I guess,” Enjolras shrugged his shoulders, and Grant choked back a laugh. He had been expecting something a whole lot deeper than that.

“I guess they do.” Grant patted Enjolras on the shoulder, trying to ignore the burning sensation that rushed down his arm as soon as he touched him. He quickly pulled his hand back and placed it in his lap. “So. Where are Marius and Cosette?”

“They should be here any minute now…” right as the words left Enjolras’ mouth, the door was flung open and Marius appeared, a big smile on his face.

“Everyone ready to go? Cosette has already loaded her stuff up.” A frown creased his forehead as he looked around the room. “Where’s ‘Ponine?”

“She’s in her room. I’ll go get her,” Enjolras hopped off the stool and disappeared down the hall. Marius shrugged his shoulders and grabbed Enjolras’ suitcase off the couch. “C’mon, Grant. Let’s load ‘em up!” Grant walked around the counter and got Eponine’s bags, and then grabbed his own, following Marius out the front door and into the parking lot. Marius’ enormous black truck was humming, the bed full of Cosette and Marius’ luggage. Grant tossed the new bags in and then opened the back door, pulling himself up the considerable height into the seat.

“Hello, Cosette. Long time no see!” Grant leaned in between the two front seats to kiss the blonde on the cheek. She turned around and smiled at him, her blue eyes bright.

“Grantaire!” her French accent was still sexy as hell, and Grant’s smile grew a little wider as the gorgeous girl beamed at him. “It has definitely been a while. I am so excited that you planned this trip!”

“So am I, gorgeous. So am I.” Grant replied as Marius climbed into the front seat. Cosette instantly leaned over and gave Marius a huge kiss before turning back to Grant.

“So where is Eponine? And Enras?”

“They’re still in the house,” Marius replied in Grant’s stead, peering out the window at the apartment door. “They should be here any second.” Sure enough, Enjolras appeared, leading a slightly tearful Eponine to the truck. They both climbed in and Eponine refused to even look at Grant, which hurt his feelings more than he cared to admit. Cosette instantly pounced on Eponine, her large eyes filled with concern.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

“Nothing,” Eponine replied instantly, wiping her eyes and shooting a glare at Grant. “Just the regular dose of insensitivity.” Ouch. Passive aggressive Eponine.

“Oh,” Cosette flicked a disapproving glance at Grant. “I see. We’ll talk about it on the boat.” Eponine just gave her friend a little nod and then turned her body towards the window. Enjolras gave Grant a completely NOT stealthy nudge in the ribs with his elbow.

“I didn’t mean to upset her!” Grant whisper-hissed into Enjolras’ ear, his nose scrunched up in distaste. Enjolras just gave a mild shrug of his shoulders and cast a worried look at Eponine before returning his gaze to the front. Grant curled his lower lip into a pout and crossed his arms over his chest; he hadn’t been aware that Enjolras’ feelings towards him were completely dependent on how Grant treated Eponine.

The ride consisted mostly of flirty banter between Cosette and Marius, with Enjolras occasionally interjecting with something science-y (and completely boring in Grantaire’s opinion), all the way until they reached the docks. _The Barricade_ was currently being set up by a couple of deckhands who worked at the marina where the yacht was stored, and Grant watched them let the sails out, carefully tying them down.

“You guys go ahead and load up the boat! I’m going to go talk to Javert,” Marius said, gesturing towards the marina office. Javert was the man who had run the marina ever since Grant could remember. Apparently he and Marius were super close, since Javert had taught him to sail in the first place. He had been a sort of father figure for Marius when he and his father started disagreeing more and more.

“Will do!” Grant saluted his friend and started grabbing Eponine and Cosette’s bags out of the trunk. “Which rooms are you guys staying in?” There were three rooms on the yacht; a master room and two smaller ones. Grant automatically assumed that either he or Enjolras would be sharing with Marius and then the girls would be sharing, and whichever guy was left was going to have the final room.

He looked over his shoulder, waiting for a response, only to find Cosette watching him with a strange look on her face.

“Grantaire,” she said slowly, following him towards the deck. “Marius and I will be sharing the master bedroom. You and Enjolras can share and Eponine will have her own room.”

“Okay, then Enjie and I call the green room,” Grant continued walking towards the boat, but Cosette reached out and grabbed his forearm, jerking him to a rather rough halt.

“No. The green room is for Eponine. You and Enjolras will be sharing the red room.” She was giving him such a mean stare, but all Grantaire could think was that the green room was the room with the bunk beds. The red room just had one big bed. He _needed_ the green room. He couldn’t possibly sleep in the same bed as Enjolras and also keep his feelings to himself.

“Cosette. Enjolras and I need our own beds. Eponine can sleep in the red room.” Cosette gave him an extremely meaningful look, and it finally hit him. “Oh. _Oh._ ”

“That’s right,” Cosette snapped, grabbing her makeup case from Grant’s hands. “She doesn’t need any more reminders of her night with Combeferre. You _knew_ that she stayed in the red room with him. You and your…” her mouth curled into a smirk. “ _Enjie_ will be just fine.”

_Oh, it’s going to be anything but_.


	10. Enjolras Says Something Crazy and Grantaire Melts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is caught up in a whirlwind of emotions that pushes out things he would never say otherwise, and Grantaire absorbs every word. Eponine finds a new love interest and aims to be an attention-diverter for the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been SO LONG.  
> I actually kind of lost my inspiration for the story and couldn't bear to continue if I wasn't completely devoted. BUT, I'm rewatching Gossip Girl and I got to season three with Aaron Tveit (the guy who plays Enjolras in the 2012 Les Mis movie) and I fell completely crazy in love with him (because he is SO HOT), just like I did when I watched Les Mis.
> 
> And that put the spark back into me and I had to continue! I'm not going to leave y'all hanging again, I promise. ;)  
> Enjoy!

_~Enjolras~_

Cast-off went well, and Enjolras found himself sitting on the deck, watching the water split down the sides of the boat, deeply inhaling the delicious salt spray as it flew into his face. He had forgotten how much he adored being out on the open water, surrounded by his favourite people, constantly in motion. He closed his eyes, smiling slightly as he felt the familiar rock of the boat as Marius steered them towards more open waters before they started on their trip down the coast. He heard Eponine and Cosette laughing in the galley as they prepared dinner for everyone, and it made him smile even wider. Despite the mild dispute prior to cast-off, everything had smoothed over as easily as it could have. Eponine had even smiled and made some sort of inside joke reference to Grantaire when they passed in the hall below deck.

Unfortunately, this brought back the reminder that he was sharing a room with Grantaire. A room that had one single bed that they would both be required to sleep in. He had strongly considered asking Eponine if he could bunk with her, but the moment he admitted that the bed sharing made him uncomfortable was the moment she would finally know, for sure, that something was up. And he wanted to avoid that conversation for as long as possible, though he so desperately wanted to confide these feelings in someone.

“Enjie?” the sound of Grantaire’s voice startled Enjolras out of his thoughts, and he blinked his eyes open, letting them slowly adjust to the fading light as the sun began to dip into the surface of the water to the west. “You okay?”

“Oh, I was just thinking,” Enjolras replied vaguely, waving his hand around. Grantaire took a seat next to him, sitting just close enough to make Enjolras’ heart start thumping in that obviously irregular rhythm it took on whenever Grantaire got too close. “Plus I love the way the boat moves; it lulls me into a sleepy stupor.”

“A sleepy stupor, huh?” Grantaire smirked. “Your alliteration is adorable.” The combined effect of Grantaire’s returned alliteration and the fact that he had just called Enjolras adorable (albeit indirectly) was enough to startle a laugh from Enjolras’ lips.

“It was completely unintentional,” he retorted, slightly defensive, but mostly still caught off-guard, as he shifted his position, turning his body to face Grantaire’s. “Are E and Cosette still downstairs?” He waved his hands towards the area of the deck where the stairs started, disappearing into the depths of the yacht.

“Yep. Hopefully the wenches are making me something great to eat.” Grantaire yawned and stretched his arms over his head before laying them down, stretched out along the top edge of the seat. His fingers were barely brushing Enjolras’ shoulder, but he didn’t move them. Enjolras wondered if Grantaire had even noticed that they were that close. More than likely not, and the thought that Grantaire could so freely do something like that without a care in the world made Enjolras’ chest hurt. Whenever he thought about Grantaire a heavy ache settled in his chest, pulling him downwards, tugging at the corners of his mouth until he was frowning and unhappy. Who knew that someone who made him feel so light and tingly could also weigh him down like a gigantic boulder?

“Anything Eponine makes is sure to be wonderful,” Enjolras replied, wincing at the formality in his voice. Every time he acknowledged the ache that Grantaire brought with him he retreated into himself, remaining cool and distant without even meaning to. Grantaire seemed to notice and his forehead wrinkled up. Enjolras wished he could reach up and smooth the wrinkles out with the tips of his fingers, push back the unruly black curls from Grantaire’s eyes, and curl his entire body around him.

“Are you okay?” Grantaire pulled his arm back, the frown still in place. “You don’t get seasick do you? Do I need to fetch you a bucket or something?” He seemed to process this thought and corrected himself: “I guess you could just throw up over the side of the boat…do you need to go lay down?”

Enjolras couldn’t help himself and he smiled, shaking his head. “I actually love being out on the water. I don’t get to very often, but being out on the ocean makes me feel like I _really_ free. Does that make sense?”

“No, no, it doesn’t,” Grantaire smiled right back at him. “But coming from your obsessive-compulsive self, the thought of you enjoying being near something that you can’t directly control is very surprising.” His voice got softer, and blue eyes seemed to focus more intently on Enjolras’ face, causing his cheeks to burn. “You’re always surprising me.”

It felt like hours that he continued to look into Enjolras’ eyes, and Enjolras could feel every single square inch of his skin lighting on fire. Grantaire opened his mouth, his eyes hesitant.

“Enjie…I….”

“Hey! It’s time to eat!” Cosette appeared by the stairs, one hand clutching the rail and the other shielding her eyes against the setting sun. “Come on down to the galley before Marius eats everything.” Oh, how desperately Enjolras wished Cosette hadn’t shown up. Grantaire was about to say something and with the way he had been looking at him meant that it was something that Enjolras knew he wanted to hear. He was about to turn back to Grantaire and ask him what he was going to say, but Grantaire was already standing up, all traces of the soft look in his eyes completely gone. Enjolras didn’t want to think it, but perhaps he had imagined the whole thing. What was he thinking was going to happen, anyway? It wasn’t like Grantaire was going to drop down on his knees and confess that the kiss at Jehan’s party had meant just as much to him as it had to Enjolras.

Even though that’s exactly what Enjolras had hoped would happen.

“Come on, Enjie. If Cosette was ever right about anything, it would be that getting down there before Marius does is crucial if we want to have any dinner at all.” Grantaire started making his way across the deck, and Enjolras reluctantly followed. The sudden rise and fall of his spirits, and the quick switch in his emotions from stupidly hopeful to crestfallen was a bit much to process.

 

~~~~~

 

Dinner sailed by, and Enjolras managed to eat plenty before Marius plowed through, eating everything in sight. It was amazing the amount of food the guy could pack away, considering he was still as trim as he had been when he finished his year-long boot-camp gym class. Cosette and Eponine happily volunteered to do dishes, clearing off the table and heading to the tiny kitchen just off the galley’s main dining area. Marius declared that he was going to sail them just a bit further before he dropped the anchor for the night, heading back up to the deck, a plate full of all the leftovers in his right hand.

It seemed that the only thing left to do was go to bed, and that was the one thing that Enjolras was hoping to put off for as long as possible. Just as he was about to come up with an excuse to help Marius with letting the anchor down, Grantaire stretched his arms over his head, yawning, before he turned to Enjolras:

“Time to sleep, am I right?” he stood, blinking slowly and then yawning once more. “You ready?” It was too late to come up with an excuse now, and Enjolras found himself nodding without even realizing it. He followed Grantaire down the hall and into the red room, named such for the painted red door. Grantaire flung the door open with as much gusto as he did with every other door he came across, and went over to his suitcase, digging around for pajamas. “Eponine’s food always makes me so tired. I’m pretty sure she drugs it just to get us out of the way. Half of the time I think she thinks she’s our mom or something, and we’re the ornery children that she just wants to tuck into bed and get rid of for the night.” Grantaire kept chatting away, even more so than usual, and Enjolras was grateful that he wasn’t expected to say anything. He was already being faced with a situation that he both deeply desired and obviously opposed.

As Grantaire kept talking about Eponine’s silly motherly tendencies, Enjolras wondered if he was the only one who felt like the entire room was humming with electricity. He wished he could chalk it up to a storm coming in so that he could pretend like it wasn’t his own charged emotions, but the sky had been absurdly clear when they had gone down to dinner, and he doubted that the weather had changed in a mere two hours.

Seeing no way to avoid it, Enjolras quickly changed into a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white shirt, crawling into the bed next to Grantaire, who was texting someone on his phone. Sliding under the covers, Enjolras discreetly checked to make sure that there was at least a foot’s worth of space in between their two bodies. Once he was satisfied, he sent up a silent prayer to whatever god had persuaded Marius to put a queen bed in this room, despite the fact that it was the smallest on the entire boat.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Who are you talking to?” He winced for what felt like the millionth time that night. He sounded like jealous teenager. It was none of his business who Grantaire was talking to, and he was beyond embarrassed for having said anything. But Grantaire just answered him as if it were any other normal question, and not a deliberate, unnecessary invasion of his privacy.

“Just Jehan. He just said that he heard from one of our frat brothers that Combeferre has submitted an application to join Omega Phi Epsilon.” Grantaire’s mouth curled into a sneer when he said Combeferre’s name. None of them liked Combeferre after the way he had cheated on—and then dumped—Eponine.

“Well? Who’s in charge of accepting applications?” Enjolras was so relieved that Grantaire hadn’t mentioned a girl, even though he hated himself for feeling the relief. He just didn’t know how he would feel if he found out that Grantaire was already searching for a new girl to tote around with him everywhere.

“I am. Jehan, too. That’s why he’s consulting me, and I’m seriously considering vetoing the whole thing and sending Combeferre a really nasty letter.” The sneer turned into a devious smirk, and Enjolras shivered. Oh, how he wanted to kiss those lips so badly.

“I still can’t believe how he treated her,” Enjolras closed his eyes and gave his head a little shake, trying to clear away the fantasies of Grantaire from his mind. “I don’t know how anyone could ever think of doing something mean to Eponine.”

“I know, right? She’s the sweetest girl that ever was,” Grantaire clicked off his phone and set it on his nightstand before rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “But Combeferre is notorious for doing that kind of shit, and so while I honestly wanted to believe that things with him and Eponine were real, I wasn’t that surprised when we found out about him and that dumb redheaded girl.”

“Their relationship was always kind of weird though, wasn’t it? I remember hearing that she absolutely loathed him until they were trapped in an elevator in the Science Building.” Enjolras hadn’t been friends with Eponine during her Combeferre days, but he had heard plenty of stories, and he had heard of the scandal around campus when he was caught having sex with another girl in a utility closet. It was so juvenile that Enjolras had laughed at the time, but now that he knew Eponine, the thought of Combeferre and his selfish actions filled him with an indignant rage on her behalf.

“Oh yeah. She hated his guts. If she had a gun, one bullet, and a chance to get rid of Hitler, she would go and find Combeferre and shoot him instead.” Grantaire laughed, the sound sending pleasant chills all through Enjolras’ body. “But then they got stuck in an elevator and came out together as if they had just met. Not unlike us, huh?” He turned his head and smiled at Enjolras. It reminded him so much of when he had woken up in his bed with Grantaire, the same look, the same longing ache in his chest, that he didn’t even realize what he was saying until it was too late.

“One day you hate someone, the next day you’re crazy in love and eating ice-cream on the pier.”

_Shit_. Enjolras felt his whole body begin to burn, and he desperately wanted to reach out and stuff the words back into his mouth. But it was too late. He had said it. He had to come up with a way to excuse it. He had to. What could he say? What would make it seem like an honest mistake? Oh God. If he ever had decided to tell Grantaire how he felt, he would _not_ have picked this as the way to do it.

Grantaire was frozen, his eyes wide, not even looking at Enjolras. He sat up slowly, turning his head to stare at his feet that were sticking out from the end of the blankets. His silence destroyed Enjolras bit by bit, tearing off tiny pieces and tossing them to burn in a furnace fueled by shame. Enjolras immediately began to backtrack, blurting out nonsense and excuses, hoping something would stick and fix the situation he had just created.

“Well, you know what I meant, not ‘in love’ just friends. It was kind of an example. You know, as a comparison to Eponine and Combeferre. Except completely different because they liked each other and weren’t just going to be friends. Which is what we are. Friends. Not like Eponine and Combeferre, who fell in love and stuff.” Grantaire still didn’t move. Enjolras continued, making an even bigger fool of himself than he ever thought possible. But he would say anything, _anything_ , if it would just keep Grantaire from bolting and never speaking to him again. Enjolras didn’t think he could bear it if he lost what little of Grantaire he had. Not now. “At the party, that was just a drunken kiss, I know, and it didn’t mean anything to you and we’re just friends is all we are and…”

Grantaire interrupted him, his voice so quiet that Enjolras almost didn’t realize he was speaking at all.

“You love me?”

The question hung in the air like a dead body hanging from a noose. Enjolras wished he could melt into the mattress and disappear. But he had to answer.

“Not…just…I think you’re great and that kiss…I…please don’t think that…the kiss. The kiss meant something to me. It did. Do you mind, I…can’t…”

Grantaire’s lips smothered the rest of his sentence. It happened so quickly that Enjolras was blinking in surprise, unresponsive, as Grantaire’s lips moved against his. Enjolras was still frozen when Grantaire pulled back, his baby blue eyes wide and begging, his breath coming in jagged huffs.

“Enjolras.” His name was a whisper on Grantaire’s lips, and Enjolras felt his insides melt. Grantaire leaned in, presumably for another kiss, and Enjolras put out a hand to stop him. Grantaire frowned, and he looked so disappointed that Enjolras wanted to laugh. Was this actually happening? He had to know. He had to be sure. It could be a joke, Grantaire could just be trying to…something. It just couldn’t be happening for real.

“Grant.” It was the first time Enjolras had called him anything but Grantaire, and the name felt so new and strange and wonderful coming from his mouth. “Grant,” he said it again, just to feel the shiver of pleasure run up and down his spine. “Wait. What…”

“Itmeantsomethingtometoo.” Grantaire’s response was so jumbled that Enjolras couldn’t understand.

“What?”

“The kiss,” Grantaire sounded so breathless, so breathy. “It meant something to me too. I’ve never…not with a girl…not that way. It never felt that way.” Grantaire inched closer, and Enjolras could feel the tension snapping between them as he closed the distance. “But Eponine said you were indifferent and I tried to squash it and all this time I couldn’t stop thinking about you and the fact that you’re a _guy_ and _I’m_ a guy and…”

“Eponine told me that _you_ were indifferent! So I had to play like I was too!” Enjolras frowned, wondering where Eponine had gotten her information from. She had probably just misread everything and…wow. Everything was a misunderstanding. Grantaire felt something too.

_Grantaire felt something too_.

“But I’m not indifferent, Enjie. I’m not indifferent,” Grantaire scooted even closer, reaching a hand up and placing it on Enjolras’ arm. “You have done something to me that I have never imagined was possible. To think that this whole time I could’ve been spending it with you in all the ways that I wanted to, but was too afraid to. To think that this whole time we’ve just been…missing each other.” This time, when Grantaire leaned forward for a kiss, Enjolras didn’t stop him. Instead, he leaned forward and met him halfway, and finally, they understood each other.

It wasn’t like the drunken kiss at the party. While that one had been the start of something that was undoubtedly going to lead to something bigger, and while it had been pleasant…this was one that they had both consciously decided to have, a kiss that they now both knew meant something.

And Enjolras was going to make the most of it.

He closed the distance between their bodies, pushing Grantaire down onto the bed, never breaking the contact of their lips. He draped himself across Grantaire’s chest, pushing him even further down on the mattress, and kissed him with all of the fervor he had stored up the past few days. He felt Grantaire’s arms snake around his waist, just like they did at the party, and pull him closer.

It never progressed further than those kisses, but Enjolras flopped back over to his side of the bed, breathless and exhausted as if it had.

“Let’s not tell anyone just yet,” Grantaire murmured, sounding just as tired as Enjolras felt. He nodded, knowing Grantaire couldn’t see him in the dark that had descended since Enjolras had first made the confession. He rolled onto his side, his eyes drooping closed. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt Grantaire curl up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tightly, as if he was afraid he was going to lose the New Enjolras he had just received.

 

_~Grantaire~_

The next morning they docked in North Carolina for more food (Marius had eaten practically everything overnight, claiming he had just had a “midnight snack”) and to keep Eponine from getting too seasick. Enjolras was pulled away from Grantaire by Cosette and Marius, who wanted him to help pick out his special vegan ingredients. Grantaire had then been paired off with Eponine to go and get some basic supplies like beer, hard liquor, packs of cards, and a set of poker chips for later festivities.

“So how did last night go?” Eponine asked as they walked down the sidewalk of the little beach town they had docked at. Grantaire froze. It was like she _knew_ something…  “I mean, how long did you and your new best friend stay up giggling and gossiping? You two are like this,” Eponine held up two crossed fingers, an innocent smile on her face. Grantaire breathed out a sigh of relief through his nose; she didn’t know, she was just talking about his and Enjolras’ sudden friendship that everyone had been poking fun at.

But now that he thought about it, he kind of _wanted_ to share this news with someone. He wanted someone to celebrate with and be as happy for him as he was for himself. In a moment of decision, he decided he was going to tell Eponine. He knew Enjolras wouldn’t mind that much; Eponine was a good friend to both of them and was the least likely to make a big deal out of it.

“Actually, Eponine, I have something to tell you.” Grantaire said slowly, watching as Eponine’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What?” She asked, her voice sharp. “This isn’t about Combeferre wanting to join your frat is it? Because I don’t want to hear about it.”

“How did you know about that?” Grantaire frowned, momentarily side-tracked.

“Jehan told me. He said he didn’t want me to blind-sided if Combeferre got in and you were suddenly having to spend time with him for initiation stuff.”

“Oh, no, there’s no way I’m letting that jackass into OPE.” Grantaire curled his lip in disgust. “That tool-bag can find a different place to spread his disease.” The satisfied smirk on Eponine’s face made Grantaire smile.

“Anyway, what was it you wanted to tell me, then?” She looked up at him expectantly, and he took a deep breath and blurted everything out in as condensed a way as possible.

“The kiss actually meant something to me and I have been hiding my feelings ever since then because I didn’t think he felt the same way but last night it turns out he feels the same way and so Enjolras and I kissed—a lot—and I’m pretty sure that we’re dating now, maybe, and I think this makes us gay which is really a surprise because I didn’t know that I was gay, and maybe I’m not, maybe I’m just gay for Enjolras, but I really like him and I just want to be with him all the time but you can’t tell anyone I told  you.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and then, without warning, Eponine whooped so loudly that Grantaire jumped back, startled. She continued to cheer and stopped walking to dance around in circles for a few seconds.

“I _knew_ it! I knew it! I _knew_ this was going to happen! I could so tell! I so called this one!” Eponine grabbed Grantaire’s hands, squeezing them as she forced him to spin around with her. “I’m so happy for you! I’m so happy for _both_ of you!”

“I’m glad you’re taking this so well,” Grantaire chuckled, chewing his lower lip. “I wasn’t expecting this reaction though. I was actually kind of thinking that it would take a bit of convincing to get you to believe me.” Eponine continued to chatter about how pleased she was and how she had totally seen this coming. Grantaire kind of doubted that she had, but he didn’t say anything, letting her continue to babble on about how exciting it all was, and if this meant that Grantaire was going to be staying the night at the apartment now.

They walked into the first liquor store they found, and while Eponine was looking at the whiskey, Grantaire headed over to the vodka. He was just admiring a fine bottle of his favourite brand when he heard a familiar voice:

“Grant?” he turned around, only to see Jehan standing next to him, a big smile on his face. “It is you! What are you doing so far from home?”

“On a yacht trip with my boy, Marius,” Grantaire grinned, patting Jehan on the shoulder. “What about you?”

“I had some date that I met online. We’d been talking for a while, so I came down last night to finally meet her. We didn’t get along so well in person.” Jehan shrugged his shoulders, completely unconcerned with a failed romance.

“Please tell me you got some great goodbye sex out of it, though,” Grantaire felt weird talking about sex with girls when he had just been kissing another _guy_ that very morning, but it’s not like he was going to tell Jehan that little bit of information.

“Oh, definitely,” Jehan smirked. “We may not have complementing personalities, but I’m a boy and she’s a girl, and those are the only two requirements for sexual pleasure.” Grantaire felt even a little more uncomfortable. He had never thought about doing… _things_ with Enjolras, but now that the thought was there…he kind of wanted to think about. A lot. And then _do_ it.

“Grantaire?” Eponine came up behind him. “Oh. Hi, Jehan. What are you doing here?” Eponine sounded pleasantly surprised. Jehan quickly relayed the bad internet romance to Eponine, who laughed at his story. “Sounds unfortunate. How did you get here?”

“I took the train,” Jehan rolled his eyes. “And I don’t really want to take it back. It feels like a wasted weekend.”

“You know what? Come with us.” Eponine’s invitation took Grantaire by surprise, but he remained silent, watching her with new curiousity. “We have plenty of room on the boat, and I’m sure Enjolras, Marius, and Cosette won’t mind a bit!”

“You sure?” Jehan gave her a half-smile. “Because I would really love to. But I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh please. Marius is like my brother. I know he won’t mind at all.” Eponine smiled right back at Jehan, and Grantaire realized what was going on. Eponine thought Jehan was attractive, and if she invited him on the boat, it meant that she would also have someone to canoodle with on the trip. He didn’t realize that telling her about him and Enjolras would make her feel like she was the fifth wheel on a couples yacht trip.

“If you insist,” Jehan gave a theatrical bow. “Anything to please such a beautiful lady,” he reached out, took her hand, and kissed the top of it, looking up at her through his eyelashes. Eponine giggled, and Grantaire rolled his eyes. At least now there would be something to distract everyone from him and Enjolras being together. The fact that Eponine was showing any interest in someone at all was a great sign, and it was sure to occupy Cosette and Marius to the point that they would forget that Grantaire and Enjolras even existed.

In fact, that’s _exactly_ what Grantaire hoped would happen.


	11. Enjolras Is Insecure and Grantaire Makes A Terrible Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras begins to wonder what exactly is going on, and goes to Eponine for advice where he learns a terrible truth. Grantaire leaves his personal effects laying about and starts a chain reaction that he might never recover from.

_~Enjolras~_

Enjolras found himself back on the boat before Eponine and Grantaire returned, and proceeded to return to his room, happy to have a bit of alone time. So much had happened in the last 24 hours and he needed time to process everything.

He quietly closed the door to his room behind him, and turned around to face the rumpled sheets of the bed he and Grantaire had shared the night before. Nothing had really happened, and Enjolras was actually sort-of happy that nothing had. He was having enough problems trying to come to terms with everything that had transpired that he wasn’t sure he could deal with any more. Unable to control the urge, Enjolras immediately began to straighten up, re-making the bed, fluffing the pillows, and gathering their dirty laundry from the day before. He had to keep his hands busy. He had to keep his _mind_ busy.

He had no idea what was going on.

This was everything he had been secretly longing for. The few days that he had spent being completely unsure as to what they were both feeling had been torture, and he was happy that _that_ worry was gone. But now he was faced with something completely new: did this make him gay? Was he now in a relationship with Grantaire? How was he going to break this to everyone else? He had never had a relationship with anyone before, at least, not with someone he genuinely liked. And he knew he genuinely liked  Grantaire, despite the fact that a week ago he had hated his guts.

“I have to get this out on paper,” Enjolras muttered to himself, walking over to his suitcase and unzipping a side-pocket, pulling out a spiral notebook and a fine-point green ink pen. Sitting down on the freshly made bed, he opened the notebook to a blank page and carefully listed out each question that he was struggling to understand. Once he finished, he focused on the first one and attempted to find a solid answer.

_Am I gay?_

He stared at the letters until they blurred together and seemed to lose all meaning. It wasn’t that he had a problem with gay people or being gay himself. Then again, he had never had to interact with gay people. He knew that Marius and Grantaire always joked around about Eponine and Cosette being more than just friends, making it sound as if the two girls would be more attractive if they were attracted to each other. Was being gay attractive? Was Grantaire able to sense that Enjolras didn’t like girls and that’s what made him like him?

No, that was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Enjolras knew that made absolutely no sense, and gave his head a little shake. He quickly scribbled down a yes, because he obviously was gay if he liked Grantaire, and it was a stupid question to ask himself anyway. He moved on to the next one, wrinkling his nose as he remembered how confused this one made him.

_Am I dating Grantaire now?_

Was he? They had confessed mutual attraction, and kissed, and done lots of couple-y things. But nothing had been officially said. Was it just supposed to be a given? It’s not like he had any previous relationship experience to look back on for advice. But Grantaire _did_ say that he only had feelings for Enjolras, and had only liked him since the kiss at Jehan’s party. He decided to come back to that one later, marking the space he had left for an answer with a question mark.

_How am I going to tell everyone else?_

He wasn’t ashamed. He was happy. He liked Grantaire, Grantaire liked him, and he knew all of their friends would be happy for them. But how would he tell them without making it a huge deal? _I’ll tell Eponine first,_ Enjolras decided, scribbling down his answer. He sighed with relief, closing the notebook and setting it on his nightstand. He had to tell Eponine now before he lost his nerve.

Standing up, he made his way towards the door and back onto the deck of the ship to see if she had returned. He found Marius and Cosette sitting on the same bench that he had been sitting on last night, and they were deep in conversation about something that Enjolras couldn’t hear. Deciding to give them a little bit of privacy, he headed towards the stern to look across the dock and see if he could see Eponine and Grantaire coming back down the street.

“Enjie!” he heard Grantaire’s voice and turned towards the right, his heart beating erratically. It was strange being able to finally admit to himself that he had feelings for the curly haired boy. Grantaire was running down the pier, waving and grinning. Once he got to the edge, he looked up at Enjolras. “’Ponine and I found Jehan! He was down here visiting some girl, but it was bust. So she invited him to come sail with us.” Enjolras sniffed. So Jehan was coming. He had accepted Grantaire, but he knew nothing about Jehan and he still didn’t like drunken frat boys. One exception didn’t change what had happened to him in the past.

“Okay,” Enjolras stepped away from the rails of the boat, watching as Grantaire pulled himself aboard and walked over to him.

“I told Eponine,” he said, his voice low, his blue eyes searching Enjolras’ face. “I hope you don’t mind. I just wanted to tell someone so they could be happy with us.” Enjolras gave a carefree shrug, even though he felt anything but. He had wanted to tell Eponine, or at least _be_ there when she was told. This was something that involved both of them.

But it was so small, and he didn’t want to get worked up over something that Grantaire would just think is petty, so he had to let it go.

“That’s fine. It’s nice to know that someone else knows besides us.” Enjolras gave Grantaire a small smile. “It makes it feel more real.” That made Grantaire smile, and he reached up, as if he were going to give Enjolras a hug, when his eyes focused on something over Enjolras’ shoulder.

“Marius!” he stepped around Enjolras, his eyes lingering on his face for just a moment longer before he faced his friend. “Eponine is bring Jehan on the cruise.”

“What?” Marius frowned, and Enjolras was mildly happy to see that someone else wasn’t overjoyed that someone else had been added to the crew. “What’s Jehan doing all the way down here?”

“Online dating makes you travel crazy distances,” Grantaire shrugged. Enjolras watched as his muscles moved beneath the fabric of his shirt, and he felt heat travel downwards. He blushed and quickly turned around, not wanting anyone to see. He had never really noticed all of the little things about Grantaire that made him so wonderful, and now that he was allowing himself to _really_ look, he was finding a lot of things that sent shivers all over his body.

“Well, I guess he’s welcome if Eponine invited him. I hope she realizes that they’re going to have to share the bunk beds in the green room.” Enjolras heard Marius walk away, presumably to rejoin Cosette on the bench. He was still facing away from them when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going back to the room, if you want to come too,” he heard Grantaire whisper in his ear, sending even more heat zipping through him. Then Grantaire brushed past him and disappeared down the stairs.

Enjolras wanted to go down to the room as well, but he had to see Eponine first. He wanted her opinion on everything before he faced Grantaire alone. There were still questions that he needed someone else to help him solve before he could go back to someone who was still so unfamiliar.

As if appearing merely because he thought of her, Eponine appeared on the deck, Jehan at her side, the two laughing as if they had been friends for ages. When Eponine looked up and saw Enjolras standing there, alone, she frowned, said something to Jehan, and then walked over to Enjolras.

“Are you okay?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing. Her brown eyes were so familiar and comforting that Enjolras felt like he was going to cry. But he had no idea why.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding thick in his own ears. What the hell was wrong with him? Eponine’s frown only deepened, and she tugged on his arm.

“Don’t lie to me, what’s up?” her eyes searched his face. “Grant told me about what happened yesterday. Why did you lie to me when I asked you if you felt something more for him after the party?”

“I…didn’t…” Enjolras looked away, turning his head to look out at the ocean. Ever since he was little he had deeply loved the sea. It was so vast, so beautiful, so powerful, so full of secrets. It was everything that Enjolras had wished that he was, especially after he lost his father. If he had been stronger, smarter, more aware, he could have saved his father. He just knew it. The ocean had been the place he had gone to every day after school, staring out at the waves and imagining what his life would have been like if his father hadn’t died in that accident. If only he hadn’t gone to his friend’s house, he would have been able to stop his dad from going out anywhere. He could have _done_ something.

“Enjolras?” Eponine’s concern brought him back to the present, and he looked back at her. “Do we need to talk about something?”

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” Enjolras looked down at his hands, his fingers wrapping around each other. “I just hadn’t faced everything myself yet. I wasn’t sure what was happening, or what would happen.”

“And that’s perfectly normal. But you could’ve let me help you talk through it. You know I want to help you, no matter what the situation is.”

“I know,” he sighed, squeezing his hands into fists. “I just didn’t know how to handle it. I still don’t.”

“And that’s something we can talk about.” Eponine pulled him towards the stairs. “Let’s go to my room and talk. Jehan is going to be busy with Marius; I told him to help him pull up the anchor.” Enjolras reluctantly followed the dark haired girl back to her room, sitting cross-legged on the floor once they reached it. Eponine locked the door and then turned towards him, joining him on the floor. “So. Tell me. What’s going on?”

Enjolras took a deep breath.

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen now,” he replied slowly. “I don’t really know what Grantaire expects of me, and I don’t know what I expect of him. I don’t know how to handle any of this at all. You know that I have absolutely no romantic experience, not to mention I’ve been told so many times that I’m so hard to get along with…” before he knew it, all of his insecurities were popping out. “I know that I’m crazy and need everything to be _exactly_ the way it should be, and that I have an annoying personality and I’m obnoxious and rude. I have no patience and no sense of humour. What could Grantaire possibly find to like in me? And how long will it last until he finds something about me that he just can’t stand, and I’m left all alone?”

Eponine was quiet for a moment, and Enjolras recognized the deeply thoughtful look on her face.

“I think that you’re overreacting, first of all,” Eponine said, reaching out and running her fingers through Enjolras’ hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. Whenever he was stressed about finals or a big paper, or whenever his father’s death anniversary came up, she would do this. She would run her fingers through his hair, braid it, do something ridiculous like that. It was so soothing and relaxing and familiar that he clung to it like it was a lifesaver keeping him from drowning. “If you’ve learned anything about Grantaire during this week, it’s that he’s as laid-back and easy-going as they come. He doesn’t piss off easily, and he has the tenacity of a bulldog if he finds something that he cares about. Right now, that something is you. The animation in his entire being when he was telling me about you says a lot. He really cares about you Enjolras, and this isn’t going to be just another one of his flings.”

“How can you be sure?” Enjolras found himself whimpering the words, and silently berated himself for it. What was he, a girl?

“Oh please,” Enjolras could practically hear the eye-roll in her voice. “I’ve known Grantaire for ages. He’s never been this way about anyone. Except for this girl he dated in high school. I think her name was Arianna. But they broke up when we graduated, and it’s been a while since he’s found anyone. Until now,” Eponine smiled down at him. “You really have nothing to be worried about.”

The mention of a girl that had once been with Grantaire sent a knife stabbing at Enjolras’ heart. The more he dwelled on it, the more it felt like the knife twisted around, worsening the wound. Suddenly, a memory cropped up in his mind, taking more and more clarity as he focused on it. He jolted his head up, making direct eye contact with Eponine.

“What did Arianna look like?” he asked suspiciously. If she said that she was blonde…

“She was blonde, I think,” Eponine replied, her lips pursed as she tried to remember. “Yeah. She was definitely blonde. But it was a really fake blonde, like, bleached or something. Almost silvery. And she had these enormous green eyes that were like…alien eyes, and…” she stopped. “Enras? Are you alright?” Enjolras had squeezed his eyes shut, and hunched his shoulders. He couldn’t believe it. Grantaire had said that this whole time he had been having feelings for Enjolras, but at Les Miserables club, he had been kissing a blonde girl. A blonde girl with startling green eyes. It had to be her, it couldn’t possibly be anyone else.

Which means that not only Grantaire had lied to him about only having feelings for him, but he still had feelings for Arianna as well.

“He was kissing Arianna at the club we went to two nights ago,” Enjolras whispered, his eyes still squeezed shut as the memory of Grantaire’s hands around the girl’s face kept flashing past him. “We were dancing, and I was about to go and sit down, and when I turned around, he had his hands on this blonde girl, kissing her.” He swallowed hard. “Her hands were all in his hair and everything.”

“ _What_?” Eponine sounded so incredulous that Enjolras’ eyes popped open. Eponine looked positively furious. “Are you sure it was her? It could’ve been anyone! Grantaire knows a lot of people.”

“Do you have a picture?” Enjolras didn’t want to see the girl again, but he had to know for sure.

“I’m still friends with her on Facebook,” Eponine pulled her phone out of her back pocket, pressing a couple of buttons and then holding the device out to Enjolras. “Is this her?”

Enjolras took the phone and looked at the screen. A very beautiful girl with long, stick-straight blonde hair and enormous green eyes stared back at him, the smallest smirk beginning on her pink lips. It was, without a doubt, the same girl from club.

“That’s her,” Enjolras whispered, his heart sinking down to his toes. “That’s definitely the girl from the club.”

“I can’t believe this,” Eponine groaned, snatching back her phone and switching it off. “Grantaire swore that he would never speak to her again. Ever. Why would he keep something like this a secret from me?”

“Seriously?” Enjolras snapped, glaring at Eponine. “I want to know why he would kiss someone else if he said that he had only wanted me that entire time.”

“Enras…” Eponine’s face was immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to seem insensitive. But you can’t be mad at Grant; he didn’t think there was any chance that you would want him back. He had every right to go out seeking happiness somewhere else.”

“That’s not the point!” Enjolras tugged at his hair, more frustrated than he had ever remembered feeling before. “Why would he lie and say that he was only interested in me if it wasn’t the truth?”

“I think you’re overreacting. Again.” Eponine patted his knee. “Go talk it out with Grant. I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason for what happened. You guys’ relationship can’t afford any more miscommunications.” Enjolras gave a curt nod and stood, unlocking the door.

“I’ll tell you what he says,” he muttered, leaving the room, Eponine watching him with sad eyes.

 

_~Grantaire~_

Grantaire opened the door to the red room and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. When he looked around the room, he smiled gently. Enjolras had obviously come to straighten things up, no doubt being unable to concentrate when he knew that his bed wasn’t made. The fact that he was so obsessive was an endearing quality that Grantaire knew he would always enjoy. Sprawling out on the bed, Grantaire settled down to wait for Enjolras to come and join him. He was about to close his eyes when he noticed a notebook sitting on the nightstand on Enjolras’ side of the bed. It wasn’t like him to leave something outside of it’s proper place.

His curiousity was piqued, and he reached over and grabbed the notebook off the nightstand, sitting up so that he could read it. Flipping through the pages, he found nothing particularly interesting. A lot of math formulas and a couple of unsolved equations that took up several pages with the amount of calculations that came with them. He was about to place it back in its spot, chuckling at how nerdy Enjolras was when he saw a single page filled with Enjolras’ messy scrawl.

Grantaire quickly read what was on the page.

“Am I gay?” he read out loud to himself, wrinkling his nose. Enjolras had written ‘yes’ directly underneath the question. “What a kook,” Grantaire chuckled, skipping to the bottom question. “How am I going to tell everyone else?” He read what Enjolras had written about telling Eponine, and felt a little bad for not waiting so that they could tell her together. But he couldn’t change that now.

Then the middle question caught his eye.

“Am I dating Grantaire, now?” he paused, taking in the single question mark. It was darker than the rest of the writing on the page, as if Enjolras had repeatedly traced the question mark until it was the most prominent character on the page. It was a good question too; were they dating? Grantaire thought they were. Why would Enjolras think that they weren’t?

Grantaire closed the notebook and put it back, his thoughts racing through his head. Was Enjolras upset with what had happened last night? Did he regret it? _No, he was going to tell Eponine about it_. Grantaire’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, frowning when he saw the name on the screen.

**Arianna:** help

Grantaire quickly typed out a response, confused as to why she would be texting him. Then he remembered running into her at the Les Miserables club the other night, and shook his head as he also recalled that she had been with a girl. How ironic that they were both gay now.

**Grantaire:** What’s wrong?

Her response was almost immediate.

**Arianna:** Leia and I broke up, and I have no idea what to do. How do you win back a girl?

**Grantaire:** I don’t think you should be asking me for relationship advice.

**Arianna:** You’re the first person I thought of! You’ve dated so many people you _have_ to know how to fix this.

**Grantaire:** Just apologise. Even if it isn’t your fault. Girls like that. Aren’t you a girl? Don’t you know what you want to hear when you’re upset?

**Arianna:** That’s not it. She… I think she left me for a guy. I don’t know how to compete with that.

**Grantaire:** That’s…surprising. But don’t believe something unless you’ve seen it first-hand.

**Arianna:** Well, it was just a rumour…I think I’m going to call her. Not that she’ll answer.

**Grantaire:** That’s a good step! You’re a strong girl, Ari. She couldn’t possibly resist you. Let me know what she says, I have to go. Miss you, girl.

Grantaire placed his phone down on the bed. He had to use the bathroom, and he didn’t want to be gone too long in case Enjolras came back. He felt his phone buzz again, but left it as he stood up to go use the restroom. It was weird that Arianna would text him, but he realized that he kind of missed having a friend like her. They had been friends for a while after the break up, but grew apart when they both decided to go to different colleges. One thing she was right about though was him having dated a lot of people. Now that he thought about it, Enjolras hadn’t had any experience with relationships at all; no wonder he was so confused about the status of theirs. Grantaire smiled to himself, opening the bathroom door and going in, locking it behind him. He would have to make sure that Enjolras knew exactly where they stood. He wasn’t going to lose him now. Enjolras meant more to him than he could ever imagine was possible.

 

 

_~Enjolras~_

Enjolras walked into the room and looked around. Grantaire wasn’t there, but his phone was. Enjolras went over to it, scooping it off the bed and turning on the display.

When he saw what was there, he felt his eyes begin to sting, warning him that tears were coming.

 

**Arianna:** Thank you, Grantie. You always know what to say to make me feel better. I miss you too.

 

Enjolras set the phone down and silently left the room. He wanted off this boat.

Now.


	12. Enjolras Does What He Always Does and Grantaire Learns How To Deal With It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras does what he does best, skirting around the truth and pretending not to see it. Grantaire wonders what he's doing wrong, and Eponine yells and stomps her feet and intimidates the crap out of her friend.

_~Enjolras~_

Almost as if he were in a trance, Enjolras guided himself off the boat, dropping down onto the dock and walking away. He didn’t know where he was walking to, but anywhere would be better than here. This was _exactly_ why he had stayed away from relationships in the first place; trusting someone else was a stupid idea. A stupid, stupid, stupid idea.

“Enras!” Eponine was chasing after him, but he didn’t stop or slow down. Rather, he sped up. “Enras, please, wait!” She caught up to him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to turn around. “What’s going on? Why are you leaving?”

“Ask Grantaire,” Enjolras spat, unable to meet her eyes. He was ashamed. Ashamed that he let himself get taken advantage of like this, and ashamed that he had even been asinine enough to let his guard down for an alcoholic frat boy. He was smarter than this, and he had just let himself down in the biggest way possible.

“Did you talk to him about the kiss with Arianna at the party?” Eponine sounded frantic, as if it were here relationship she were trying to rescue and not Enjolras’. Not that he wanted to rescue it.

“No, I never got that far,” Enjolras looked across the ocean, trying to ignore the floating _Barricade_ in the corner of his eye. Marius should probably just get a new boat; this one already had too many uncomfortable memories for too many of his friends.

“Why not? What happened?” Eponine was persistent, but then again, she had always been that way. Enjolras relented, knowing he would have to tell her sometime, because it was obvious Grantaire was never going to own up to his actions.

“I went into the room and Grantaire wasn’t there, but his phone was.” Enjolras began, already feeling the flush of anger moving up the back of his neck. “I picked it up, and he had a text from Arianna _thanking_ him for always knowing what to say. And then,” Enjolras took a deep breath. “She said that she missed him too. Which means that Grantaire admitted that he missed her first.”

Eponine didn’t say a word. Enjolras figured that now she would finally see Grantaire as he had been seeing him for the past two years (minus the last week, unfortunately): a shallow, insensitive prick.

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions,” Eponine replied softly. Enjolras almost didn’t catch it; she couldn’t possibly be taking Grantaire’s side on this one. There was absolutely no way.

“Are you kidding me?” he blurted, eyes wide. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Enras, please,” Eponine begged. “You guys have already gone through one miscommunication, and a big one at that. Don’t just throw everything away because you saw one text and didn’t let him even explain himself. If he had something to hide, do you think he would have just left the phone out for you to find?”

“I don’t care if he thinks he’s hiding it or not! It doesn’t change the fact that he did it at all! Why is he talking to her?”

“That’s exactly what _you_ need to find out. _You_ need to go and talk to him, not me.” The usual ferocity that crept into Eponine’s voice when she started demanding things was starting up. “You can’t keep chickening out of everything just because you’re afraid that something might go wrong. Things going wrong is a _part of life_ , Enjolras. You can’t keep running away from your own _god-damned life._ ” Enjolras blinked, finally meeting Eponine’s eyes. They were positively furious, but the fact that she was chewing on her bottom lip gave away that she was more distressed and nervous than angry. She continued. “Enras, I love you. I really do. But for the few years that I’ve known you, you have made a lot of mistakes and passed up on a lot of amazing opportunities just because it was something that was far out of your comfort zone. It’s time for that to stop. You can throw away incredible work-study opportunities and upperclassmen classes, but you can’t throw away something like Grant. You can’t throw away how you feel about someone just because you’re scared. That’s not how things work.”

“I…” Enjolras opened his mouth to argue again, but Eponine cut him off.

“I know Grant. He wouldn’t be going behind your back for any reason. Ever. So instead of being such a coward about this, you should face him and talk this out like the adult you claim to be.” Without even waiting for Enjolras’ rebuttal, Eponine turned on her heel and marched back to the boat, leaving Enjolras speechless behind her. She had never been so harsh with him before, ever. She was always gentle, but firm, gently trying to push him in the right direction, and firmly standing her ground whenever he started to get antsy. But never, not in their entire time of living together, had she so blatantly exposed her feelings and…guilt-tripped him like she had just then.

Enjolras got back on board the boat.

 

~~~~~

 

Enjolras hid out in a storage closet on the boat until he heard the dinner bell ringing. His phone had been going off constantly, Grantaire and Marius wondering where he had gone. After about two hours, the texts had stopped, and he guessed that Eponine had clued them in to the fact that he was, indeed, on the boat, but didn’t want to be found. Enjolras had spent the past few hours typing out a list of all the mean, passive-aggressive things he was going to say to Grantaire when they went back into their room. It had helped get a bit of his aggression out and calm him down, even though he still planned to say a lot of the things he had written down.

Climbing out from behind a stack of cardboard boxes, Enjolras opened the storage closet door and stepped out into the hallway. He went down to the galley, where everyone else was already seated around the large oak table in the middle of the room. Marius was whispering something into Cosette’s ear, and she threw her head back with laughter. Grantaire was telling a story to Jehan, waving his arms wildly in that expressive way of his. There was only one empty chair, and it was next to Grantaire, and after a quick glance from Eponine, he knew that she had forced it to be that way. Enjolras took his seat quietly, and ignored the concerned look that Grantaire gave him. What right did he have to be concerned?

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low. Jehan had gone to talking to Eponine and Marius while Cosette went to fetch dinner. Enjolras sneered at Grantaire, shaking his hand off of his knee from under the table.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he replied, looking away and focusing on the landscape artwork hanging on the wall across from him. He could practically feel the hurt and confusion rolling off of Grantaire, but felt no remorse. He could go to Arianna for comfort, maybe she would always know what to say to him. When he looked back down, Eponine was giving him a glare that sent chills down his spine.

Cosette served the food, giving Enjolras a special plate with a more vegan-friendly meal on it. He smiled and thanked her, and perhaps it was this smile that made Grantaire think that it was okay to approach him again.

“Please, Enjie, something is wrong. Just tell me so we can talk about it.”

“I don’t think I want to talk about it, _Grantie_ ,” Enjolras hissed back, his eyes dark. “Now let me eat my food in _peace_.” The look that flashed across Grantaire’s face almost made Enjolras feel badly about what he had said. _Almost_ , but not quite. Grantaire left him alone after that, in fact, he left everyone alone, quickly eating his food and then excusing himself because he “didn’t feel well.”

Enjolras lingered at the table a while longer, offering to do the dishes. Eponine quickly spoke over him, saying she and Jehan would do it, and that everyone else should go to bed (this was accompanied with a very pointed look at Enjolras before she disappeared into the kitchen).

Enjolras reluctantly walked back to the room, opening the door as quietly as he could, hoping that Grantaire was either not in there, or asleep. Unfortunately, neither of these things were true, and Grantaire was curled up on his side of the bed, his arms wrapped around his knees and his knees tucked up to his chest. Ignoring him completely, Enjolras changed into his pajamas and laid down on his side of the bed, tucking himself underneath the covers and switching off his bedside lamp. He pulled out his phone and a set of headphones, intending to drown out any possible pleas that Grantaire might make for his case. Eponine might be able to force him back onto the boat with words, but she wouldn’t make him try and wiggle an apology out of Grantaire; if he was really sorry, he would apologize himself.

After a break of silence that was much too long, Enjolras rolled over to tell Grantaire that he was expecting an apology. Enjolras knew he had been a bitch all day, and he didn’t want to lose Grantaire, now that he thought about it. So he was going to give Grantaire an opening to explain himself, and then they would work it out and it would all be good. Eponine would be proud of his change of heart.

Things would have gone exactly that way if he hadn’t rolled over to find Grantaire texting. When he tried to peer over Grantaire’s shoulder to see who he was texting, Grantaire dropped the phone from Enjolras’ view and got off the bed, stepping out the door and disappearing into the hallway.

 _That seals it then,_ Enjolras stuck his earbuds into his ears and put on some music. _If he wants to text Arianna when I’m still sitting right here, then fine._ He closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep and leave behind this nightmare of mixed emotions.

 

_Maybe this was a really big mistake._

 

_~Grantaire~_

Earlier that day, after Grantaire came out of the bathroom, he went back into the bedroom and sat down to keep waiting for Enjolras. He read Arianna’s text, smiling and shaking his head before plugging it in to charge. As he lay on the bed, patiently awaiting his favourite boy’s arrival, he closed his eyes and started imagining all of the wonderful things that were going to happen from here on out. Before he even realized it was happening, Grantaire fell asleep, slipping into a familiar dream that he hadn’t had in years.

 

_It was freshman year of high school, and Grantaire was as nervous as they came. He was so used to being the guy in charge, the one everybody liked, and now he was thrust into a world where everyone else was older than he was in a way that actually mattered. In your teenage years, fourteen is a lot older than thirteen by more than just a year. And the difference between fifteen year old freshmen and eighteen year old seniors was ginormous._

_Standing in the middle of a crowded hallway, trying to figure out where his first class was, Grantaire saw her. She was beautiful. She was leaning against a locker, talking to another girl that was abnormally bland, and slightly transparent. But maybe that was just because she was standing so close to what was obviously the sun. This girl, this gorgeously stunning girl, was the most lovely thing Grantaire had ever seen._

_So he walked up and told her so._

_Her laugh was an inspiring, pretty thing, making him feel warm all over. She reached out and looped her arm through his, introducing herself as she did so. “_ I’m Arianna,” _she tossed her long, silvery blonde hair over one shoulder, and raised a single pale eyebrow. “_ Who are you?” _Grantaire managed to mumble out his name, and she gave that stunning laugh once more, ruffling his dark curls. “_ I’m pleased to meet you, Grantaire. Let’s have lunch. Tomorrow. The picnic table under the trees by the baseball field.” _Grantaire could only nod in response, unable to look away from her forest green eyes._

_They met for lunch the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Grantaire learned so much about Arianna in those few stolen minutes under the willow tree. She was a transfer student from France, but was born American. Her parents hated her and never wanted her around, not that she minded, because they were always yelling at each other. She loved the colour pink and she wanted to become a fashion designer once she graduated. She thought that college was for sissies, and that giraffes should be the only animals on earth._

_She was intoxicating, unique, and crazy beautiful. Grantaire was in love with her in matter of days_

_Over freshman year, they became best friends. By the time sophomore year rolled around, they were dating, and they were the couple that everyone knew would be the first to get married once they all graduated. They knew it, too. They planned it in detail, and when senior year was coming to a close, Grantaire was voted to give the commencement address_

_Grantaire bought a ring and asked the principal of the school if he could propose to Arianna in his speech, and the principal gleefully said yes, complimenting Grantaire on his choice of a wife._

_But when graduation day came, and Grantaire stood in front of his entire class, preparing to ask the only girl he had ever loved to be his wife…he got scared. He looked across the sea of people and realized that this wasn’t all there was. This wasn’t the end of the only great years he would ever have; there was more to look forward to. And despite how much he loved Arianna, he couldn’t tie himself down before he had truly seen the world._

_So he didn’t propose._

_And when they graduated and enrolled in different colleges, Grantaire broke up with her._

 

Grantaire woke up with same gnawing ache in his chest that he had for months after his breakup with Arianna. That dream had recurred every night for the next year, and every time he woke up with tears on his face and an empty, ragged space in his chest. It was a truthful nightmare, one that he was forced to relive, over and over in his sleeping hours.

But he had done the right thing. He knew that now. Enjolras had shown him that he had made the right choice, even though he had recently been doubting letting go of the one person he had felt so deeply for. But Arianna found out that she wasn’t that into guys, and apparently Grantaire wasn’t into girls. He hadn’t felt for anyone the way he had for Arianna, until now.

Grantaire looked around. Enjolras still wasn’t in here. Maybe he had come in, saw Grantaire was asleep, and left to let him get some rest. He reached over and checked his phone, but he had no new messages. He quickly fired off a text to his Enjie, asking where he was, before he texted Eponine and asked her the same thing.

Eponine immediately replied, saying that Enjolras was needing some space to think things out. Grantaire respected that. Enjolras was a thinker, and he knew that the guy had a lot to think about right then.

 

~~~~~

 

Dinner came and went, and Grantaire returned to his room, wondering what exactly was making Enjolras so upset. He had refused to tell him, despite Grantaire’s efforts, and then had ended up saying some pretty hurtful things. _Grantie_. That’s what Arianna would call him. But it sounded more like Enjolras was mocking Grantaire for calling him Enjie. And that hurt more than anything else.

Curling up on the bed, he ignored Enjolras when he came in, wanting to give him some space, and also wanting some of his own. He didn’t want to push Enjolras any further into whatever misery he was currently wallowing in. Enjolras moved around, changing into his pajamas, and making several huffy sounds as if he wanted Grantaire to acknowledge that he was there. But for once, Grantaire wasn’t going to bow to his whims, especially when he was lashing out for no reason. So Grantaire remained silent, not even moving an inch when Enjolras settled into the bed. When the bedside lamp switched off, Grantaire figured that Enjolras wanted to sleep, and prepared himself to leave the room to give the guy the maximum amount of space he could offer. Maybe Eponine would let him sleep with her tonight. They could both fit into the tiny bunk bed, right?

He was about to get up when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket. It was Jehan.

 **Jehan:** Do you think Eponine digs me?

Grantaire almost chuckled, but he didn’t want to give off the impression that he was light-hearted in the face of Enjolras’ present depression. He quickly tapped out a response.

 **Grantaire:** I don’t think she would have invited you on the boat if she didn’t, pal.

He felt Enjolras shifting behind him, and quickly ducked his phone down, worried that Enjolras was going to snap at him about the light being too bright. Wanting to avoid any more conflict, he got off the bed and went out of the room, closing the door as quietly as possible. He walked down the hallway and went up onto the deck of the boat, inhaling the night air. He wanted to fix whatever was happening with Enjolras, especially since they had finally started communicating on the same level.

Walking over to the bench they had sat on together the day before, Grantaire lowered himself down and ran his hands through his hair. Maybe he should ask Eponine to find out what was going on. She had texted Grantaire earlier saying to just leave Enjolras alone for a little bit, and then they had exchanged a couple of strange looks at the dinner table, all of which Grantaire couldn’t decipher. Eponine had seemed a little upset with Enjolras, and Enjolras had seemed to not give a shit, which wasn’t too unusual for either of them. He pulled out his phone and texted Eponine, asking her if she could tell him what was going on with Enjolras. After hitting the Send button, he placed his phone next to him on the bench and looked across the deck.

Marius and Cosette were cuddling at the stern, Marius right hand on the steering wheel, his other wrapped around Cosette’s shoulders. She was gazing up at him adoringly, and Marius was smiling out across the water, his hand rubbing her arm. They were so happy. They had always been so happy. Marius had never had a fight with Cosette that lasted more than a few hours, and even then, their fights were so few and far between that Grantaire couldn’t even remember the last time they had one. _My relationship with Arianna was like that_ , Grantaire thought as he watched them, Cosette tilting her head back for a kiss. Marius bent down and pressed his lips gently against Cosette’s, and she pulled back, laughing at something he had murmured against her mouth. Why couldn’t Grantaire reach this loving, happy point of his relationship with Enjolras? What was stopping them?

 _You are_ , his conscience sneered at him. _You’re the one who refused to confront Enjolras in the room because of your pride_. Grantaire pulled out his phone and looked at the display, hoping Eponine had replied to give him some insight into what was happening. There was nothing.

Grantaire took one more look at Cosette and Marius, happily tucked into their adoring bubble, and realized that he wanted that for him and Enjolras more than anything. And he was going to have it. He leapt from the bench and marched back down to his room, flinging the door open and glaring at Enjolras’ sleeping form. He didn’t care how hard Enjolras was going to fight him, or how mean he was going to be, he was going to figure this out, and this entire situation was going to be fixed by tonight.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire sat down on the bed, pulling Enjolras’ headphones out of his ears. Enjolras mumbled something, but didn’t wake up. Grantaire shook his shoulder, repeating Enjolras’ name until his eyes fluttered open.

“What the hell…?” Enjolras’ eyes focused on Grantaire’s face looming over him, and curled his lip in distaste. “What do you want? I’m trying to sleep.”

“I know, but I don’t care right now.” Grantaire pulled back and took a deep breath to steady his shaking voice. “I want to talk about this. I want to talk about it right now.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Enjolras picked up his headphones and tried to put them back in his ears, but Grantaire reached out and stopped him.

“Enjie, please,” Grantaire pleaded. “I don’t even know what I did that upset you. You have to tell me. We’ve miscommunicated so much for so long and I don’t think we can afford to do that again. I…” he paused, taking a shaking breath. “I don’t want to lose you now that I finally have you.”

Enjolras was silent for a long time, fiddling with the headphone cords, chewing his lower lip. Grantaire’s nerves were shattered; he needed him to say something. Anything. But Eponine had always stressed how Enjolras needed time. Time to process, time to think, time to prepare himself for what was to come. If Grantaire could do anything, he could wait, especially if it meant that Enjolras would respond favourably.

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Enjolras’ voice was so soft that Grantaire almost didn’t catch it. He frowned, confused.

“What do you mean? Of course you can trust me.”

“No, I can’t!” Enjolras was suddenly filled with life, sitting straight up and turning his body to face Grantaire, his eyes burning. “I can’t trust you at all. You lied to me, and you pretending that you like me or want me is lying even more!”

“What the crap are you talking about? I’ve never lied to you!” Grantaire had never felt more out of control, more confused. What was going on? What had he done that had made Enjolras mistrust him so much? They had only just started dating! What could he possibly have done since they got on the boat? Was it inviting Jehan? Did Enjolras think he had feelings for Jehan, his oldest frat buddy?

“I’m talking about _Arianna_ ,” the sneer, the complete disgust, in Enjolras’ voice made Grantaire wince.

“Who told you about Arianna?” Grantaire asked quietly. It could only have been one person, but he still had to task.

“Eponine did. But only because I asked her about her.”

“How did you know about her in the first place then?” Where was Enjolras going with this? How had he met Arianna?

“I saw you kissing her at the Les Miserables club that night,” Enjolras turned away, ducking his head down. “You told me you had only liked me this whole time, and you were kissing that girl at the club. I asked Eponine about her, and she said that it was Arianna and told me about your past together. And then I came back to the room and I saw that she was texting you and…”

“You looked through my phone?” Grantaire laughed, mostly with disbelief. Only possessive, psycho girlfriends went through their boyfriend’s phones.

“It was sitting out on the bed, and I picked it up to move it to the nightstand. I couldn’t _not_ look at the screen,” Enjolras said defensively. “But that doesn’t explain the kissing, or the fact that she was texting you at all, saying she _misses you!_ ” His voice got progressively louder, and Grantaire glanced towards the door, hoping they wouldn’t wake anyone up.

“Enjie, please calm down. I can explain everything.” Grantaire reached out to touch Enjolras, but he pulled away. Grantaire let his hand drop. Enjolras looked at him expectantly, waiting for his excuse. “It’s true, Arianna kissed _me_ at the club. If you had stayed and watched, you would have seen me push her away. I didn’t want the kiss. I didn’t ask for, initiate, or condone it. And I made sure she knew that.” Grantaire stared Enjolras down until he looked away, his cheeks flushed. “Why didn’t you just come to me when you saw it happen? You could’ve asked and I would’ve told you what was going on. Heck, I would’ve introduced you to Arianna and you would see that she’s not as awful as you think she is.”

“But she texted you. Said she missed you _too_. You said you missed her first. Explain that away.” His tone of voice indicated that he was losing confidence in his argument, and Grantaire felt a surge of relief at this realization. They were nearing the end of this awful fiasco.

“She’s still my friend, Enjie,” Grantaire said softly. “If you don’t want me to be friends with her, I can work that out. I don’t talk to her often, in fact, today was the first time I heard from her in a long time. She wanted advice because her _girlfriend_ ,” Grantaire emphasized this word heavily, and Enjolras actually had the sense to look chagrined. “Broke up with her. I was giving her advice, Enjie. That’s it. There’s nothing going on between us. Besides, as I said, she’s completely, totally, one hundred percent lesbian. There isn’t a chance, even if I wanted there to be.”

The silence that followed this was deafening. Enjolras wouldn’t meet Grantaire’s eyes, and he began to pray silently that Enjolras would just please, please, please forgive him and just let this be the end of it. It felt like hours passing until Enjolras finally looked up, a small smile on his face. Grantaire’s heart lifted.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions so quickly,” Enjolras said, his voice gentle, and almost embarrassed. “I guess that’s something I need to work on, huh?” Grantaire threw his head back and laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed until Enjolras began to laugh with him. They fell back on the bed, their breath coming in wheezes and gasps. Grantaire rolled on his side to face Enjolras, and Enjolras did the same.

Grantaire reached out a hand slowly, and brushed back one of Enjolras’ blond curls.

“There are things we both need to work on,” he whispered. “But we can work on them together.”

**Author's Note:**

> It took me forever to get up the nerve to post the first chapter. I hope you liked it. I know exactly where I want this to go (even if it sounds a little scattered at first) but if you have any suggestions on helping me improve anything, I would absolutely love to hear it. Creative criticism goes a long way :)


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